J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.^ 

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GATHERINGS 

IJST BEULAH. 

BEULAH— Isaiah lxii. 4. 



"After this I beheld until they were come into the land of Beulah, where the sun 
shineth night and day. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves 
awhile to rest. And because this country was common for pilgrims, and because 
the orchards and vineyards that were^here belonged to the King of the Celestial 
Country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of his things." 

Pilgrim's Progress , Second Part. 



*y 



JOSIAH COPLEY. 




PITTSBURGH': 

PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 

1878. 



on 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by 

Josiah Copley, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, 



Stereotyped, Printed and Bound by 

Stevenson, Foster & Co. 

Pittsburgh, 



BEULAH— A Preface. 



PETER, in the benediction which he pours upon the be- 
lievers to whom he wrote, and with which he closes his 
first epistle, exclaims: "The God of all grace, who hath 
called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after ye 
have suffered awhile, make you perfect, establish, strength- 
en, settle you ! " 

Here the apostle expresses in literal terms the same con- 
dition which God, by the pen of Isaiah, sets before us in 
the figure of a happy land — not beyond the grave, but on 
this side — called by two expressive terms — Hephzi-bah (my 
delight is in her) and Beulah (married). 

"Thou shalt no more be termed Forsaken, neither shall 
thy land any more be termed Desolate ; but thou shalt be 
called Hephzi-bah, and thy land Beulah; for the Lord de- 
lighteth in thee, and thy land shall be married.' ' — Isaiah 
lxii. 

With almost superhuman skill Bunyan leads his company 
of pilgrims through much tribulation into this land, this 
safe and happy condition, which the prophet, under the 
spirit of inspiration, sets forth in the above magnificent 
figure, and which Peter so eloquently describes in the 
words first quoted. Isaiah's Beulah, with all its grace and 
glory, is nothing more than the perfected, established, 
settled faith which the apostle prayed might be the portion, 
in this present life, of those to whom he wrote. 

Here the great allegorist pictures his pilgrims as waiting 
for the summons from beyond the river to go over and 
enter into their everlasting rest in the Celestial City. Here, 
although not yet at rest, they were safe, " because (says 



iv Preface. 

Bunyan,) this country was common for pilgrims, and because 
the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the 
King of the celestial country; therefore they were licensed 
to make bold with any of his things." Here they were so 
near to the Celestial City that pilgrims of clear, strong 
vision could discern its glories from afar. Yet they were 
only mortal men and women, with their several character- 
istics, excellencies and infirmities. One of them was Chris- 
tiana, that faithful and loving widowed mother, a type of 
multitudes still found in all our churches — sweet and modest 
flowers in this garden which the Lord God has planted. 
Another, although safe in Beulah, was still known as Mr. 
Despondency ; and his daughter, even there, did not cease 
to be "Much Afraid." Old Mr. Honest dwelt in Beulah 
for a while, and made an excellent record by adhering 
strictly and firmly to truth and right. There are many 
such in our churches to-day. When he went over he carried 
his honesty with him, but not as his passport ; for his last 
words were, "Grace reigns! " One other was there, who, 
although a sojourner in Beulah, was still " Ready-to-halt ; " 
while another continued to be "Feeble-minded" to the 
last. Standfast abode for a time in Beulah, a blessing to 
those around him, until he was called to make a triumphant 
passage across the river. 

Thus in this grandest of allegories every Christian who 
is established, strengthened, settled in his faith and trust in 
the Lord Jesus Christ — faith of every degree from trem- 
bling hope to full assurance — may see where he stands. 
Many reach Beulah soon. Others, like Bunyan's Christian, 
have long and sore conflicts before they reach it. The 
lions, the fiend Apolyon, the Hill Difficulty, the Valley of 
Humiliation, Doubting Castle, and Giant Despair have all 
to be passed ere they reach it, and are made perfect, estab- 
lished, strengthened, settled. Many are in Beulah who are 



Preface. v 

not aware of it. They wander through the orchards and 
vineyards, but gather little fruit. They hear the words of 
the great and good Proprietor calling to them, "Eat, O 
friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved;" but, 
with a humility which has its roots in unbeMef, they are not 
sure that he is speaking to them. Among Bunyan's pil- 
grims in Beulah, Mr. Despondency would with trembling 
hands gather barely enough of fruit from the lowest boughs 
to keep him alive ; while his daughter would be still more 
afraid. Old Mr. Honest would gather fruit for himself and 
others without misgiving, because he knew that it was his 
right to do so; while Great Heart would come among the 
pflgrims richly laden with fruit plucked from lofty branches 
— enough for himself and abundance for his friends. 

It has been the happy lot of the writer, with all his weak- 
nesses and infirmities, to have had his place in Beulah since 
childhood, and never to doubt that the kind and loving 
Proprietor was speaking to him and to all when he said, 
"Eat, O friends;" so for many years he has been gathering 
the fruits of that safe and happy land. To him the Valley 
of Humiliation and Beulah were often blended together, 
and. he can testify that in that sad vale some very whole- 
some fruits grow; but they are only adapted to immediate 
and personal use. Those of Beulah, on the other hand, 
will keep forever. In this gathering, this miscellaneous 
volume, the reader will find some which he plucked from 
branches as high as he was able to reach. 

The fruits which grow on the other side of the river are 
better still ; and many who are now dwellers in Beulah will 
soon be there, the writer among the rest. Meanwhile, let 
us be glad that there is so much on this side. There is no 
forbidden fruit in Beulah, alt-hough there was in Eden. 

J. c. 

Pittsbtirgh, Dec, 1877. 

1* 



CONTENTS. 

Pagk. 

Our Knowledge of God, 9 

The Light of God, 14 

Where God Dwells, 18 

The Logos, 20 

" Where Art Thou? » 23 

Lot, 26 

The Marriage of Isaac, 35 

Pharaoh and Joseph, 43 

Jacob's Ladder, 49 

Jacob's Interview with Pharaoh, 55 

Where and When did Job Live? 58 

Job's Desire and Hope, 64 

Christ as seen in Joseph, 66 

Moses in Exile, 68 

The Eight Way, 72 

The Great Sacrifice, 76 

Solomon, 80 

Elisha, Naaman and Gehazi, 87 

The Pot of Oil, 93 

Mission and Poverty of Christ, 96 

Christ's Life Work, 100 

Christ and his Little Children, 105 

The Measure of Love, 110 

Christ and t!he Samaritan Woman, 114 

The Blind Man receiving Sight, 119 

« Wherefore did'st thou Doubt ? " 124 

Peter Fishing for a Coin, 127 

Character of Jesus, 130 

Faith, True but Staggering, 132 

Simon Peter's Fishing Party, , 136 

Every-day Faith, 143 

Confessing Christ, 148 

The Last Interview, 151 

The Denial of Peter, 155 

" Lovest Thou Me ? " 159 

Jesus as a Teacher, 163 

John's Gospel, 168 

Jesus in Trouble, 171 



CONTENTS. Vll 

Justice and Mercy, 174 

The Marys of the New Testament, 176 

The Affair of the Tribute Money, 183 

How Jesus Taught Forgiveness, 189 

11 What Lack I Yet ? " 192 

* Some Fell among Thorns/' 196 

Our Father, 202 

"Arise, Shine," 205 

" Put on thy Beautiful Garments/' 207 

The Source of Life, 210 

"Empty, Swept and Garnished," 213 

"Even so, Come, Lord Jesus," ; 216 

Evidence of Things not Seen, 218 

The Prodigal Son— A Sermon, 221 

Looking unto Jesus, 225 

The Vineyard, 228 

Knocking at the Door, 230 

Theme for Serious Thought, 234 

Building a House, 239 

Thoughts on a Precious Passage, 242 

11 They shall see God," '. 245 

Communing with God, 247 

The Great Philanthropist, 249 

Other Worlds, 252 

The Millennium, 255 

The Minuteness of the Divine Government, 261 

Disintegration, 265 

The Angel and Peter 268 

Cornelius, 272 

Saul of Tarsus— Pau\ the Apostle, 279 

Paul and the Jailer, 284 

The Germ of Eternal Life, 288 

The only Sure Foundation, 290 

The Mountains were Covered, 293 

Salvation Completed, .....297 

The Leaven in the Meal, 301 

The Law of Development, 304 

Darkness and Light, 309 

" Shall Never Die," 314 

Life and Immortality, „ 319 



Vlli CONTENTS. 

" Wood, Hay, Stubble," ..823 

Fruit from the Tree of Life, 326 

Bending the Veil, 829 

Charity, .... 832 

"All Things are Yours, » . 336 

What will He do with Them ? 340 

Success and Failure, 345 

The Natural and the Supernatural, 348 

The Personality of Satan, 352 

Judas Iscariot, 357 

The True and the False, 360 

Agur's Prayer, .....362 

Socrates, 368 

Jonah's Gourd, 372 

Spiritual Stores, 376 

Types,! 378 

A few Thoughts on Psalmody, 381 

Toplady and Wesley, 386 

Mutilating Hymns, 390 

Use and Abuse of Sacred Song, 395 

Kev. Joseph W. Henderson, 399 

Albert Barnes, 404 

Rev. John Black, D. D 407 

Working Together for Good, 410 

A Strange and Touching Scene, 412 

How Mineral Coal was Made, 415 

The Gloom and Glory of Human Life, 418 

Growing Old, 423 

" I will Trust and Not be Afraid, » 428 

Decline and Death — Moses and Paul, 432 

Jerusalem, 436 

Christ's Divinity, as seen in his Miracles, 438 

Life and Death, 450 

The Attractions of Heaven, 454 

Deadness of Heart, 456 

My First Communion, 459 

Breaking to Pieces, 462 

John Stuart Mill, 466 

Resurrection of the Body, 470 

Progress in the Life to Come, 475 



GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



There are probably not two human beings upon earth 
who have precisely the same idea of the Supreme Being ; 
neither are there any whose conceptions are not more 
or less erroneous. John the Baptist uttered a great truth 
when he said, "No man hath seen God at any time." 
This means that to the natural man, with all his ability to 
investigate and to reason, God, in his essential nature, is 
altogether unknown and unknowable. Nature, so far as it 
lies open to the observation of man, furnishes irresistible 
evidence of the existence of a Supreme Power and Intel- 
ligence, and this the philosopher calls the Supreme Being 
or God, and out of this ocean of phenomena, both material 
and moral, he constructs his ideal of that Being. He is 
necessarily the maker of his own Deity, and the elements 
of the character will be, must be, gathered from natural 
phenomena, and will partake largely of the idiocrasy of the 
thinker. If he is kind, benevolent and social, he will have 
a god who takes a warm interest in the affairs of his creatures; 
but if he is cold, lofty and egotistical, as many professed 
thinkers are, his god will be enthroned in infinite height 
and ineffable repose, above the stupendous system of laws 
and forces which he has established, and which need no 
further regulation on his part. He proudly claims to know 
and believe in a grander God than the one of whom Jesus 

(9> 



IO GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

speaks, where he tells us that even the fall of a sparrow is 
his act. Ask such a man if he believes in God, and he will 
tell you he does ; but it is not the Lord God of the holy 
prophets, the One of whose person our Fellow Man, our 
Divine Brother, Jesus Christ, is the express image. 

The highest conception which man in his own strength 
"can form of God is not knowledge. It can rise no higher 
than an idea, a notion. " Behold, God is great," said 
Elihu, " and we know him not ;" and Zophar challenges 
the intellectual world in words the eloquence of which 
cannot be surpassed: " Canst thou by searching find out 
God ? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ? 
It is high as heaven ; what canst thou do ? deeper than hell ; 
what canst thou know?" It is very affecting to read the 
sublime language of Job and the sages who gathered around 
him in his sore trials, where they labor to search out some- 
thing of the character and the moral laws of the Great 
Supreme who had so mysteriously afflicted his faithful 
servant. They all acknowledged his immediate agency in 
the affairs of man. In abstract truth they seem to have 
been guided aright, so far as they were able to go ; but some 
of them erred in the application of that truth to the case 
before them. Believers in 'that early day had not learned 
that "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth;" but Job, be- 
fore he died, was doubtless able to say with David, "It was 
good for me that I was afflicted." 

Can God be known at all ? Let us turn again to John 
the Baptist. "No man hath seen God at any time; the 
only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, 
he hath declared him." This great declaration covers the 
whole ground, and shuts us up to a single avenue through 
which a knowledge of God can come. In Nature we see 
the marks of his wisdom and power. " The heavens de- 
clare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handi- 



OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD. „ II 

work," is a declaration which the highest reason accepts 
readily \ but this acceptance is not faith, nor does it afford 
the knowledge that we need. The philosopher who holds 
and teaches that the Supreme Being has instituted a system 
of inexorable laws, so perfect as not to require any direct 
agency on his part in their working, can accept this, and 
yet scoff at the doctrine of his perpetual care of his creatures 
as Jesus taught it. 

The knowledge of God reaches us through moral, not 
intellectual channels ; through faith, not reason ; through 
a childlike obedience, not philosophic thinking. Jesus says, 
"If any man will do God's will, he shall know of the doc- 
trine whether it be of God." Even the doctrines of the 
Gospel can only be savingly received in the heart and the 
understanding by a submissive and obedient spirit. Saul 
of Tarsus exhibited this spirit when he asked, "Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do?" He was first ready to obey, then 
he began to learn. This harmonizes with the promise in 
the twenty-fifth Psalm — "The meek will he guide in judg- 
ment, and the meek will he teach his way;" and also with 
these words of Christ — "Except ye be converted, and be- 
come as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom 
of heaven." 

Any real knowledge of God can only be obtained in this 
way. By searching man cannot find out God ; but where 
there is a spirit of faith and obedience God will reveal him- 
self, so that it may be truly said that he does know him, 
and this knowledge is salvation. " This is life eternal," 
says Jesus in his prayer, "that they might know thee, the 
only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." 
Then the humble sinner begins to understand what Jesus has 
told him of his Father in heaven ; that he is always with 
him to guard him from evil and to supply his wants; that 
he is more willing to give gojd things to his children than 



12 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

earthly parents are ; that he knows all about him, even to 
the number of his hairs. Then he is able to receive, and 
in some measure to comprehend the great truth that "God 
so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life." Then he can believe wh.it his Saviour 
tells him, that " God is a spirit," and being so, is infinitely 
great, and incomprehensible — everywhere present — dwel- 
ling in the high and holy place, and with him also who is of 
a meek and contrite spirit ; and, so believing, he gladly 
clasps to his heart the sweetest words the beloved disciple 
ever uttered — " God is love." 

It is not in the power of mortal man, whatever may be 
his intellectual wealth, to get higher than this. He may, 
and it is right that he should, cast his eye and his telescope 
heavenward, and see how ''the heavens declare the glory of 
God;" but in all this he is still far below the range of in- 
spired and revealed truth. He may descend to the earth 
and search all his life among its wondrous varieties, utilities, 
and beauties, and return richly laden ; but all he can dis- 
cover in either are but the foot-prints, as it were, of the 
Almighty. Nature and its laws cannot tell us what relations 
we sustain to its Author, if any at all. Profound thinkers, 
who have scanned it closely and carefully, have often come 
to the dismal conclusion that we are but factors in the 
mighty sum of all things, and subject to all-embracing, in- 
flexible, irreversible law, as impersonal as gravitation. With 
such a notion dominant in the mind, faith and worship are 
impossible, and hope can rise no higher than to the in- 
ference that, as God is wise and benevolent, it shall be well 
with us in a hereafter, if, indeed, there be a hereafter. 
So far, and no farther, can the study of Nature carry us. 
How deep and awful, therefore, is the darkness which Divine 
Revelation enlightens ! 



OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD. 1 3 

That revealed light shined. upon the pathway of the 
earliest men. A personal, kind and merciful God made 
himself known, and faith was awakened in the soul. It 
was a dim, dawning light at first; but it was sufficient, and 
in it Abel worshiped acceptably and Enoch walked with 
God. Through successive ages and dispensations it waxed 
brighter and brighter until perfect day came in Jesus Christ. 
God, at sundry times and in divers manners, spake to the 
fathers by the prophets, and at last by his Son ; and, speak- 
ing to us from the highest heavens, he bids us hear him. 

Through the Hebrew prophets God had revealed himself 
as a kind and loving God, always and everywhere present, 
who could be securely trusted ; yet was terrible in his holi- 
ness and justice. But Jesus brought him nearer still when 
he introduced him as "Our Father in heaven," and told us 
that he so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but 
have everlasting life ; and declared that he that loveth me 
shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him and will 
manifest myself to him; and then, "If a man love me he 
will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we 
will come unto him, and make our abode with him." Thus 
he established a personal relationship between the infinite 
God and his creature man, close, endearing, vital and un- 
ending, fraught with glorious results, the fullness of which 
will never be reached. By his grace he makes him pure in 
heart, and then promises that he shall see God. Well might 
the beloved apostle, after nearly a century's experience of 
the love of Christ, exclaim: "Behold, what manner of love 
the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called 
the sons of God ! Therefore the world knoweth us not, 
because it knew him not. Beloved, now are we the sons of 
God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we 
know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we 

2 



14 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

shall see him as he is." He then adds this most significant 
remark : " Every man that hath this hope in him purineth 
himself, even as He is pure." The faith and hope here ex- 
hibited and spoken of have active, assimilating powers, 
making the believer more and more like his Father and his 
God. 

In all this the intellectual powers are kept in strict subor- 
dination to the moral powers of faith, and hope, and love, 
and yet they have much to do. As seen through this 
medium, "God is light, and in him is no darkness at all." 
But when we undertake, in intellectual pride and sufficiency, 
to mount "through Nature up to Nature's God," as Bope 
has it, we find that he dwells in darkness in which there is 
to us no light at all. But the Christian philosopher can 
look from his loftier standpoint, " the bosom of his Father 
and his God," down through Nature, and see its illuminated 
side, its beauty and harmony, and adore that tender mercy 
which is over all his works. In one sententious utterance 
Jesus gave us all that we can yet receive of the essence of 
Deity — "God is a spirit;" and if we would understand 
him aright, we cannot but feel that he forbade any further 
search in that direction. But in the direction which is open 
to us, John leads us to the summit when he says, "God 
is love." 



That which we call light is understood in its effects by 
all who have eyes to see; but in its essence it is fully com- 
prehended by none. No one can certainly know what it 
is ; but all know what it does. Itself invisible, it reveals to 
us a universe of material things, which, but for it, would be 
forever hid from our view. But of natural light, except as 



THE LIGHT OF GOD. 15 

it serves as a figure to enable us to understand the greater 
light which only the eyes of the soul can discern, it is not 
our purpose at present to speak. 

In the natural creation God has been pleased to make the 
sun the great reservoir of light. All other lights, whether 
natural or artificial, are not worthy of mention in com- 
parison. Thus is that vast and luminous orb — the source 
of light, and warmth, and power and life, a glorious image 
of its creator, — at once the most manifest, and yet the most 
mysterious and unsearchable object that can arrest our at- 
tention. " Truly light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is 
for the eyes to behold the sun." 

" God is light, and in him is no darkness at all," says that 
beloved disciple, that apostle who, probably, was privi- 
leged to occupy a place nearer to the great uncreated Source 
of light than was ever vouchsafed to any other mortal man. 
Now let us contemplate John as at one extreme of the great 
line of human observation, and such a man as Tyndal at 
the other. The one, nestling in the bosom of God, basking 
in his dir.ect, unobstructed rays, looks down through the 
measureless vista of creation and providence, and sees all 
things bathed in that " True Light ;" and from his high and 
blissful elevation sends to us, in tones as positive as they 
are cheering, the joyful shout, " God is Light! God is 
Love !" From his standpoint he sees everything moving 
in harmony and beauty. To him there are no shadows, 
clouds and darkness ; for the light of God falls upon every- 
thing, making them bright and clear. 

The other, from his cold, and dark, and distant stand- 
point, looks up through the same immeasurable vista ; but 
he sees all things only on their shady side — clouds and 
darkness meet him and obstruct his vision at every step of 
his progress. He sees material things; but they are en- 
shrouded in a mysterious and uncertain light. He per- 



1 6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ceives that immutable and resistless laws are operating upon 
them ; but of the origin of those laws he can only reason 
and speculate ; and long before he reaches the grand Centre 
and Source of being, his power of vision is exhausted, and 
he can only grope his way onward through the labyrinths 
of reason and conjecture. He is constrained to acknowl- 
edge that what he has discovered could only exist through 
an almighty designing Agent ; but whether that agent is a 
personal being, or only an all-pervading principle, he can- 
not tell; or whether he bears any relation to his creatures 
as their moral governor, he cannot discover. To him God 
is darkness, and in him is no light at all. . 

The pillar of cloud which accompanied the chosen people 
in their wanderings through the wilderness affords a strik- 
ing emblem of the very thing we are discussing — the, light 
of God, and the standpoint from which that light can be 
seen, and reflected back upon us, from all things by which 
v/e are surrounded. In the night preceding the passage 
through the Red Sea, that pillar removed from before the 
camp of Israel and stood behind it, directly between the 
pursuing Egyptians and the escaping captives. To the 
people of Israel, who stood in the light of God, the cloud 
was made luminous by reflecting that light; but to the 
hosts of Egypt, in whose camp God was not, "it was a 
cloud and darkoess." Both saw the cloud. To Israel it 
was luminous, because God, who was with Israel, shined 
upon it and made it so ; to Egypt it was dark, very dark, 
because the light of God was not on their side of it. The 
cloud was nearer to them than God was. 

Just so do all things appear different to the saint who is 
near to his God, and to the unsanctified man who lives far 
from him. The one sees everything on the illuminated side, 
the other on the dark and shady side. It matters not what 
they may be investigating — whether the mysteries of Nature 



THE LIGHT OF GOP. 1 7 

or of Providence ; the rolling current of events as they af- 
fect nations or individuals ; the trials, difficulties, perplex- 
ities, or bereavements of their own lives — all have, like 
the pillar of cloud, a bright side to the one, a dark side to 
the other. No strength of intellect can compensate for this 
want of light to the one \ no feebleness of mind can de- 
prive the other of the joy and peace, and of the real wisdom 
which that light imparts. 

Paul was a man well versed in the learning, science and 
philosophy of his day ; yet hear what he says: "I deter- 
mined to know nothing among you save Jesus Christ and 
him crucified. " A mere philosopher, whether of that day 
or of this, would suppose that in this resolution Paul had 
descended from a higher to a lower plane of knowledge. 
But no greater mistake could be made than such a sup- 
position. Paul, by the exercise of faith as sublime as it 
was simple, mounted to the highest pinnacle of knowledge, 
and placed himself on the illuminated side of all things, 
whence he could look down through Nature and Providence 
and see all things working in order and harmony, and for 
good. He did not stand outside and look in ; but stand- 
ing in the light of God, he looked out and around. He 
looked at the cloud as Israel looked, not as Egypt looked. 

When the poet talks about looking "through Nature up 
to Nature's God," he talks about that which is impossible. 
He inverts the true process. He places his observer on the 
dark and not on the luminous side of things. That which 
he calls "Nature's God" is but a figment of his own imag- 
ination, conjured up out of the deep darkness which human 
power of vision or of thought can never penetrate. But 
let Faith lift the soul to God, and Love bind it fast, then 
a in his light we shall see light." Then we can look through 
Nature down from "Nature's God," even the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, whom to know is life 

2* 



1 8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

eternal, and in whom all things become ours, both to know 
and to enjoy. 

I would by no means speak disparagingly of the labors 
of philosophers and men of science ; but my sole object is 
to persuade those who are or may become votaries of science 
to place themselves first cf all at the right standpoint — on 
the illuminated side of things — in the light of God. And 
I would exhort those who may be standing in the shadow of 
dark providential dispensations, to get around as quickly as 
possible to the bright side; for, be assured, there is nothing 
this side of the regions of despair which has not a bright 
side. 



w to m& §wm. 

"Ttfou art with me," says David in the twenty-third 
Psalm, and he gives that as the reason why he fears no evil, 
even though he were in the valley of the shadow of death. 
This to David was more than that all-embracing presence of 
which he speaks in the one hundred and thirty-ninth Psalm. 
It was that peculiar indwelling presence and fellowship ex- 
pressed in the following passages : 

"Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth 
eternity, whose name is Holy : I dwell in the high and 
holy place ; with him also that is of a contrite and bumble 
spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the 
heart of the contrite ones." — Isaiah Ivii. 15. 

" Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the 
world," says Jesus. — -Matt, xxviii. 20. This was just before 
he ascended to that " high and holy place." 

"If a man love me he will keep my words; and my 
Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make 
our abode with him." — John xiv. 23. 

" Behold," says Jesus in vision to John in Patmos— a 



WHERE GOD DWELLS. 1 9 

part of the message to the lukewarm Laodiceans, " I stand 
at the door and knock : If any man hear my voice, and 
open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, 
and he with me." 

When faith can utter David's words, "Thou art with me," 
in the sense of these Divine utterances, then all is well. It is 
not enough to grasp in faith and address in prayer a merely 
Omnipresent God ; for the believer ought to seek, and not 
rest till he finds, this Special Presence ; this reviving, com- 
forting, companionable communion ; this mutual supping 
together. 

In the above citation from John xiv. we are taught at 
once the Trinity and the Unity of the High and Lofty 
One ; for Jesus positively declares that he and his Father 
will both take up their abode with the soul which loves him 
and keeps his commandments. What is this, what can it 
be, but the fulfillment of the great promise of the departing 
Saviour: "I will pray the Father, and he shall give you 
another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever, 
even the Spirit of Truth ?" It is a sweet and awful thought, 
that when the Holy Spirit dwells in the heart, the loving 
Father and the redeeming Son have taken^up their abode 
with us. 

We are in danger of error as to the fundamental doctrine of 
one only living and true God, unless we suffer our thoughts 
to dwell often upon the Unity as well as the Trinity of the 
Deity, and ponder well such words as these: "He that 
hath seen me hath seen the Father." 

I have often thought that we poor sinners may be the 
most favored of all God's creatures. We know not the 
depth of our fall ; neither can we measure the height of 
our exaltation through our union with the Divine Nature in 
Jesus Christ. As he took our nature, we take his, and thus, 
as Peter expresses it, "become partakers of the Divine 



20 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Nature." Thought, language, imagination, all fall im- 
measurably short of this stupendous fact. No wonder that 
angels delight to be the ministering spirits, the servants of 
those whom God thus delighted to honor. They are his 
servants and ours, bright, glorious and good as they are; 
but Jesus puts his redeemed ones in a still higher scale when 
he speaks so familiarly to them of " my Father and your 
Father, my God and yours." 

It is only by contemplating man thus highly exalted 
through the great salvation — so thoroughly cleansed from 
sin, so invested with a righteousness absolutely immaculate, 
that we are able to take home to our hearts by faith the 
wonderful declarations quoted above, and feel and know 
that God does in very deed dwell with man ; his nature, as 
it were, blended with ours. 

How poor, how low, how far short of the truth are our 
habitual notions of the benefits which flow to us from the 
redemption purchased by Christ ! How hard it is to believe 
that it is possible for a sinner to be made absolutely holy — 
perfect as his Father in heaven is perfect. Self-righteous- 
ness dies long, long before the faith of a Christian can 
reach such a conception. 



In the opening of John's Gospel there is a grandeur and 
sublimity the depth and height of which it is impossible 
fully to comprehend. Side by side with divine revelation, 
as it was given to Israel, human wisdom and philosophy in 
Greece had climbed darkly and blindly upwards towards the 
Unknown God, whose existence, power and wisdom all nature 
attested. In the profound speculations of those sages, of 



THE LOGOS. 21 

whom Socrates and Plato were the pioneers, the grand idea 
of .the Logos was conceived and adopted as the basis of 
their speculative philosophy. 

This Logos was to them an undefined something, through 
which the invisible and otherwise inscrutable Deity made 
himself known to human reason in creation, in the laws of 
nature, and in the innate consciousness of right and wrong, 
virtue and vice found in the mind of man. These sages 
did not exalt this thing which they called the Logos to a 
distinct personality ; nor was it properly speaking a princi- 
ple ) but a kind of out-going of Divinity, the nature of 
which was inscrutable. As far as they could go they ap- 
pear to have been guided aright. But in the Logos of the 
great Alexandrian school there was neither light nor life — 
nothing upon which the faith of man could lay hold. It 
was Light, true light, shining in darkness, "but the dark- 
ness comprehended it not." As the wise men of the East 
saw the Star of Bethlehem, so the wise men of the West 
caught some glimmering rays of the Logos as he was about 
to be made manifest to Israel and to the world. 

It is not until we place ourselves upon this lofty stand- 
point that we are able at all to take in the matchless grandeur 
of John's opening : "In the beginning was the Word (the 
Logos), and the Word was with God, and the Word was 
God." The evangelist came as a teacher sent from God to 
show to the philosophic schools of his day that which they 
had, as the culmination of unaided reason, dimly perceived, 
but were utterly unable to comprehend. He came to re- 
veal the Logos, not as something unknown and incompre- 
hensible, but as a divine Person. Not as God only, but as 
God made flesh and dwelling among us, so that his fellow 
men, the writer among the rest, "beheld his glory, the 
glory of the Only Begotten of the Father." John came, as 
Paul came to the Athenians and talked with them of their 



2 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Unknown God, and with a similar message : " Whom, there- 
fore, ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you." 

In both these cases, in John's introduction and in Paul's 
address to the philosophers of Athens, we see that Revela- 
tion begins where human investigation necessarily ends. It 
was the same process of thought, the same search after 
truth beyond the range of reason and investigation, which 
caused the altar " To the Unknown God" to be erected 
at Athens, and which incorporated into the philosophical 
systems of that age the awful doctrine of the Logos. The 
Light was shining in the darkness, but the darkness com- 
prehended it not, until John touched the sublime mystery, 
and " gave to airy nothing a local habitation and a name ;" 
and in the Logos of the schools revealed to mankind a 
Being at once divine and human, a God and a Brother, the 
Creator of all, and at the same time the Saviour of sinners 
— a being into the mysteries of whose nature angels cannot 
fully penetrate, yet so sweetly simple that childhood can 
embrace it in loving trust, and can behold his glory, and 
feel how full of grace and truth he is. 

The Logos, as the conception was gradually evolved in 
the minds of those deep thinkers of old, was a grand idea. 
Of them it may with truth be said, " they did what they 
could;" and the Holy Ghost, in guiding the mind and pen 
of the last and grandest of the Evangelists, put honor upon 
their highest achievement by engrafting upon it the most 
sublime statement of the doctrine of God manifest in the 
flesh to be found in the Holy Scriptures. 



" WHERE ART THOU?" 23 

"mm m %mr 

With the question as to what would have been the con- 
dition of the human race, had our first parents been obedi- 
ent to the divine command in the matter of the forbidden 
fruit, we have nothing to do. Speculations on that point 
are worse than useless. God has given us no means of de- 
termining anything about it. And what kind of worship 
and service were rendered by them to their Maker in their 
state of innocence, what was the extent of their knowledge, 
what measure of happiness they may have enjoyed, or what 
capacity for happiness they had, we have no means whatever 
of knowing. The very few utterances of Adam before the 
fall, which have been put on record, reach no higher than 
human relations. To ascribe to him, therefore, as many 
do, faculties, powers, and bliss almost angelic, is a draft 
upon the imagination altogether unwarranted by recorded 
facts. 

He sinned. He broke the special command which had 
been given to him as a test of obedience ; and by so 
doing, he incurred the penalty annexed to that law. It is 
at this point that the religious history of our race com- 
mences. Man is now lost, " gone astray like a lost sheep." 
His direct relation to his Creator, as an innocent creature, 
is broken off, and under a conscious sense of guilt he flies 
from his presence and hides himself. He flies, but the Good 
Shepherd follows. 

"And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto 
him, < Where art thou?" 7 

Let us look at this awful transaction, and see if we can- 
not find in it far more of the loving kindness of God our 
Saviour, than of the wrath and vengeance of God our 
Judge. Let us see if he did not deal with Adam and his 



2 4 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

wife on the same principles that he deals with every sinner 
whom he leads to repentance, to faith, and ultimately to 
glory. 

He first convinced him of sin, by requiring a confession 
of what he had done. He then placed him in other con- 
ditions — the best possible for a sinful being to occupy. 
Not a paradise, not a purgatory, not a hell, but a school 
of discipline, in which sorrow, toil and pain should be his 
lower teachers; in which ten thousand urgent wauts of his 
nature should combine and draw forth his latent powers of 
mind and body ; to teach him his dependence upon God ; 
and to fit him for the higher teachings and discipline of 
providence and grace. And last of all, the return of his 
body "to the earth as it was, and his spirit to God who 
gave it," should close his earthly existence and his proba- 
tion, and bring him into that which is really life or really 
death. 

Now all is ready for the work of the great Mediator, with 
his salvation through faith in him. Henceforth the just 
must live by faith. Salvation by works is impossible. 
Thus was the Lamb slain from the foundation of the 
world. 

That is a wretched theology which sees an angry God in 
Eden, hurling curses and thunder-bolts of wrath upon the 
heads of our guilty parents. Nothing fell upon them which 
can with propriety be termed a curse. Let us examine those 
things, which some call curses, in detail. 

"Cursed is the ground for thy sake. 11 — It is as if he had 
said, " I curse the ground and make it sterile, stubborn, and 
reluctant to yield food suitable for thee, that thou mayest 
be blessed by wholesome labor and discipline." 

" In sorrow shall thou eat of it all the days of thy life" 
This sorrow means painful, wearisome toil. Does any one 
who understands the human heart desire that this should be 



"WHERE ART THOU ?" 25 

otherwise? If so, what does he say to these words: "In 
the world ye shall have tribulation : but be of good cheer ; 
I have overcome the world." Is a curse embodied in these 
gracious and cheering words ? 

" Thou shalt eat the herb of the fields — Jesus teaches us 
to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread." Surely there 
is no curse here. 

" In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" — He 
must be a poor philosopher, as well as a lazy man, who can 
find a curse here. It is right, by every means in our power 
to lighten human toil ; but it is in those communities in 
which science and skill have done the most to save labor 
that we find the most industry and the least idleness. Be 
assured, that except for this imposition of labor as a neces- 
sity of the race, Satan would have found vastly more idle 
hands to engage in his works of mischief. 

"Dust thou art \ and unto dust shalt thou return." — Is this 
a curse? Before deciding this point, pause for a while and 
think of a world filled with immortal sinners, that is, sinners 
who do not cease to live as such. The very- conception, 
when made in the light of the Bible, of history, and of our 
own experience, is horrible. The death of men alone keeps 
this world from being a hell. The death of Jesus makes it 
the vestibule of Heaven. 

In all these sentences, these sad but salutary allotments, 
the Lord God our Saviour only said in other words, "Take 
up thy cross and follow me." 

It is a glorious thought, and as true as it is glorious, 
that the voice which called to Adam and said, "Where art 
thou?" was the same which said, "Come unto me, all ye that 
are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest;" and 
that the accents of mercy and loving kindness were as full 
and as emphatic in the one as they are in the other. 

And still he cries ! "Unto you, O men, I call, and my 
3 



26 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

voice is to the sons of men." To you, who may be read- 
ing these words, he calls and inquires, "Where art thou?" 
Are you standing in the light of his countenance, rejoicing 
in the assurance of his favor, washed in his blood, filled 
with his Spirit, and engaged in his service ? or are you try- 
ing, as Adam tried, to hide from his presence among the 
trees of your garden ? If so, he calls you, as he called Adam, 
to come out, not to be cursed, but to be blessed ; not to be 
condemned and punished, but pardoned and saved. 



The flocks of Abraham and Lot became so numerous that 
the land was not able to bear them. The pasturage be- 
coming scarce, a strife between their respective herdmen 
was the consequence. Abraham was a man of peace, and 
would prefer to submit to loss, and even to wrong, rather 
than that there should be any difficulty between himself and 
his nephew, or between their herdmen ; so he said to Lot : 
"Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between thee and me, 
and between my herdmen and thy herdmen ; for we are 
brethren. Is not the whole land before thee ? Separate 
thyself, I pray thee, from me. If thou wilt take the left 
hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou depart to the 
right hand, then I will go to the left." 

There are few nobler or more generous utterances on 
record than this ; and it would be well were Christian pro- 
fessors — I do not say Christians —to ponder these words of 
the father of the faithful before they engage in strife and 
litigation about some matters of less importance than this 
difficulty between him and Lot. 

The river Jordan at that time ran farther south than it 



LOT. 27 

does now, through a valley or plain of exceeding beauty 
and fertility. In Genesis xiii. 10, we are told that it was 
well watered everywhere, before the Lord destroyed Sodom 
and Gomorrah — that it was even as the garden of the Lord, 
and like the land of Egypt. Very likely it was full of irri- 
gating ditches, as was Egypt in ancient times, to an extent, 
probably, that absorbed all the water of the Jordan. Before 
the destruction of Sodom it may be that there was no Dead 
Sea ; but that the water flowed on and on, until it was all 
either evaporated or lost in the sand, as the river Humboldt 
is lost in the dry atmosphere and sands of Nevada, east of 
the Sierra Nevada range. The splendid plain which Lot 
chose as his pasture ground, and the sites of the cities of 
Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah and Zeboim, are now, doubtless, 
covered by the strong, sluggish, saline and bituminous waters 
of the Dead Sea, in which the waters of Jordan and of some 
other streams are now collected and carried off by evap- 
oration. It has no outlet to the sea, and can have none ; 
for it is more than thirteen hundred feet below the sea level. 
It was very generous on the part of Abraham to offer 
Lot his choice ; and the choice which Lot made shows us 
that he partook largely of those common failings of human- 
ity, selfishness and worldliness. He saw in the rich vale of 
Sodom excellent and luxuriant pasture and plenty of water. 
He thought it a first-rate place for a man to grow rich ; 
and that being so, he seems not to have inquired very care- 
fully as to other things. Lot was a righteous man, and be- 
gan to suffer at once for his unwise choice of a residence. 
It is probable that his flocks fared well and increased rapidly 
in numbers and value ; but Peter tells us that he was un- 
happy ; that he was " vexed with the filthy conversation of 
the wicked;" that the people among whom he dwelt "vexed 
his righteous soul from day to day with their ungodly deeds." 
Turn to the horrible scene described in Genesis xix. 4-1 1, 



28 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

and that will give you an idea of the moral character of 
these people. It was a sad mistake on the part of Lot to 
travel Sodomward in pursuit of worldly prosperity, and it 
is no less a mistake now. 

How long Lot dwelt in Sodom before the raid of the 
four predatory kings was made upon the cities of the plain 
we are not told; but chronologists make it from five to 
eight years. These kings were the petty chiefs of as many 
barbarous tribes. Their object was plunder, and they suc- 
ceeded in taking a large amount. Men, women, children, 
and cattle were alike plunder. Lot and his family were 
taken captive with many others ; and, had they not been 
rescued by Abraham and his three hundred and eighteen 
armed servants, a life of servitude would have been their 
fate. Abraham, brave and generous, conquered the rob- 
bers, rescued the captives,. restored the property, set his 
kinsman Lot back where he was, and then returned in peace 
to his own pasture grounds, after having been blessed by 
Melchisedek. king of Salem and priest of the Most High 
God. In this man, of whose history we know nothing else, 
we see one of the last of the earliest line of God's people 
on earth, a line which reached from Adam, through Enoch, 
Noah and others to Abraham, who was the connecting link 
between that and the second dispensation, of which that 
most distinguished of the patriarchs was the head. Job 
and his friends belonged to that most ancient line ; and in 
their discussions and arguments we have a sample of the 
theology of those earliest worshipers of the Most High 
God. 

Abraham continued to dwell in quietness and peace, and 
in prosperity and honor, on the plains of Mamre for some 
years longer, while Lot in Sodom was probably growing 
more and more wealthy. We read of his sons-in-law who 
lived in Sodom, which fact shows that he was becoming 



LOT. 29 

reconciled to the place, and probably more and more as- 
similated to the manners and customs of the people. His 
abominable attempt at compromise with the ruffians who 
gathered around his house (xix. 8,) shows a lamentable lack 
of moral sense on the part of a parent. 

In serene old age, in prosperity and peace, in patient 
waiting for the promised blessing, Abraham is sitting in his 
tent door in the heat of the day. "And he lifted up his 
eyes and looked, and lo, three men stood by him." (xviii. 2.) 
In the simple little scene which follows, the kind and gener- 
ous old man is set before us to the life. From his extremely 
courteous address we can safely infer that Abraham saw 
not only that the strangers were of superior rank, but that 
they were good men; and, moreover, that one of them 
was superior to the other two. Addressing the chief, he 
said : " My Lord, if now I have found favor in thy sight, 
pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant." Then, ad- 
dressing all three, he continued : " Let a little water, I pray 
you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves 
under the tree ; and I will fetch a morsel of bread, and 
comfort ye your hearts ; after that ye shall pass on ; for 
therefore are ye come to your servant." With equal frank- 
ness the invitation is accepted, and Abraham hasted, not to 
bring "a morsel of bread," but to prepare a generous 
feast. The strangers ate, and as they partook of the good 
man's hospitality they, or rather he — the Lord and Master, 
and our Lord and Master, who, more than eighteen hun- 
dred years afterwards, sat at the humble board of Martha 
and her sister, and Lazarus — gradually made himself known. 
Sarah in her old age was to become the mother of the prom- 
ised seed in whom all the families of the earth should be 
blessed. 

The feast being ended, and the blessing promised to the 
venerable pair, the strangers rose to take their departure. 



30 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The kind host walked with them on the way, and as they 
walked the Lord and Abraham talked together. "And the 
Lord said, ' Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I. 
do?' " and then he told him of his purpose to destroy 
Sodom and Gomorrah, because of their sins, which had be- 
come very grievous. Abraham trembled for Lot, and plead 
successfully again and again for the city, lowering every 
time the number of righteous men for whose sake it should 
be spared, until he had fallen to ten. But he was still too 
high ; and because Lot was saved we may infer that he 
was the only righteous man among those multitudes. 

Why is it that so few believers are able to bring home 
fully to their hearts the fact that the same Almighty Being 
who called on Abraham that day, and talked so familiarly 
with him, and with whom Abraham conversed as friend 
with friend, calling him at the same time the Judge of all 
the earth, is also their God,. equally near, equally kind, 
equally approachable, although they may feel themselves to 
be, as Abraham expressed it, " but dust and ashes?" This 
interview of Jehovah with Abraham, as they walked together 
by the way, was very much like the intercourse of Jesus 
with his disciples, and brings to remembrance his gracious 
words : "I call you not servants ; for the servant knoweth 
not what his Lord doeth ; but I have called you friends; for 
all things that I have heard of my Father I have made 
known unto you." 

The Lord, while he talked with Abraham, seems to have 
sent his two companions forward, and in the evening they 
arrived in Sodom and came near to the house of Lot. He 
saw them and greeted them with the same courtesy and 
kindness with which Abraham had greeted the three. These, 
we may be sure, were created angels, ministers of divine 
wrath against the devoted city. At first they declined 
Lot's invitation to enter his house, knowing what a horrible 



LOT. 31 

scene of wickedness would transpire before morning ; but 
he pressed upon them greatly, and they turned in. It was 
very kind on the part of Lot ; and it is very likely that he 
saw by their deportment and countenance that they were 
good men, and persons of high rank. 

Lot, like Abraham, made a feast for his heavenly guests, 
yet little dreaming that they were not mortal men. They 
seem not to have made themselves quickly known ; but 
upon what subject they and Lot conversed in the mean time, 
we have no account. Probably the evening meal was 
hardly over until the foul mob of miscreants had surrounded 
Lot's house. It was a horrible night — too bad to comment 
upon. But it has pleased God to give us that glimpse of 
the horrors of Sodom, that we may know to what depths of 
degradation and depravity human nature is capable of de- 
scending. Lot's expostulation with the ruffians was a 
flagrant case of casting pearls before swine. They received 
his soft and honeyed words with furious contempt, and 
would have " turned again and rent him," had not the 
angels drawn him into the house, shut the door and smitten 
the men with what is here called blindness, which I think 
was simply changing their vision from true to illusive. A 
similar miracle was wrought by Elisha upon the army of the 
king of Syria, so that he led them into the midst of Samaria, 
they not being able to see the city ; yet were not conscious 
that there was anything wrong with their vision. So, 
doubtless, it was with these men of Sodom. They were 
unable to see Lot's door where it really was, but fancied 
they saw it in many places where it was not; so, the his- 
torian tells us, "they wearied themselves to find the door." 

When all was again quiet the angels made known their 
awful errand, and sent Lot to warn his sons-in-law. '■ Up, 
(said he to them ; for by that time they were in bed,) get 
you out of this place, for the Lord will destroy this city!' 1 



$2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

But they utterly disregarded the message, and probably 
thought that the old man had lost his senses. Then he re- 
turned and awaited the morning. At dawn the angels 
hastened him, saying, " Arise, take thy wife and thy two 
daughters who are found here, lest thou be consumed in 
the iniquity (or the punishment) of the city!" 

But Lot still lingered — lingered as thousands still linger 
when warned to flee from the wrath to come. That house 
and all that it contained must be left ; so must those fine 
flocks and herds beyond the gates — all must be given up, 
all his worldly goods of every kind. He lingered as such 
men as he always linger. Then the men laid hold upon his 
hand, and upon the hands of his wife and daughters, and 
led them out of the city. 

" Escape for thy life ; look not behind thee, neither stay 
thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest thou be 
consumed!" was the stern and urgent command. But Lot 
still held back. He plead earnestly to be allowed to take 
refuge in Zoar — " O, let me escape thither, (is it not a little 
one?) and my soul shall live!" The kind and pitying 
angel allowed this request of the wejak and terror-stricken 
man, and Lot entered Zoar just as the sun was rising. 

Was the destruction of the Cities of the Plain effected 
by natural agents and forces, or was it purely miraculous ? 
The sacred historian says : "The Lord rained upon Sodom 
and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out 
of heaven." These terms might be applied to volcanic fires; 
and had Moses told us of the destruction of Herculaneum 
and Pompeii he would probably have used similar terms. 
In some parts of that country petroleum exists to this 
day in great abundance, while bitumen abounds on the 
Dead Sea. Job, who probably lived before Lot, speaks of 
the rock pouring him out rivers of oil, which was petroleum 
(rock oil) of course. Vast volumes of gas would gather, as 



LOT. 33 

it does in our petroleum region, far beneath the surface of 
the earth, and acquire sufficient force to cause a wide and 
fearful disruption of the superincumbent crust, making ex- 
tensive rifts through which this pent-up inflammable gas 
would issue in vast quantities, thus relieving the upward 
pressure and allowing the crust upon which the cities stood 
to sink down. Then, under that enormous pressure, catar- 
acts of oil would spout up from the rent and torn earth, be 
ignited by the flaming gas, and fall back like a shower of 
"fire and brimstone." The miracle — if miracle it may be 
called — we find in God's holding those tremendous min- 
isters of wrath in his hand until the right moment arrived; 
until the iniquity of Sodom was full; until he had told 
Abraham what he was about to do ; until he had warned 
Lot, and given him time to warn his kinsmen; and until the 
angels had drawn him out of the doomed city by what was 
little less than physical force. So tremendous were the 
forces which had to be held in check while Lot lingered 
that even the angels themselves seemed to be alarmed and 
in anxious haste. 

In the history of that awful event God has been pleased 
to show us how all natural forces, both beneficent and de- 
structive, are under his control; and that nothing can hurt 
us — neither ill-designing men nor the blind forces of nature 
— without his permission. 

Abraham, when he returned to his quiet and peaceful 
encampment from communing with the Lord, would feel 
profound anxiety ; for possibly the Lord might not find 
even ten righteous men in Sodom, and he had not told him 
that if he destroyed the city he would save Lot. So we 
read, " And Abraham got up early in the morning to the 
place where he stood before the Lord (an elevation prob- 
ably which overlooked the plain and its cities). And he 
looked toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the 



3^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

land of the plain, and behold, and lo, the smoke of the 
country went up as the smoke of a furnace." A con- 
flagration so fearful and wide-spread probably the world 
never saw, and never will see again until that day when the 
earth and all things therein shall be burned up. The great 
volume of smoke here mentioned favors the impression that 
there was an immense outgush of petroleum, for nothing 
else makes a denser smoke. 

Lot, by the angel's permission, ran into Zoar, that little 
city, just as the flames burst upon the greater cities, and it 
was saved. But he did not stay long there. The scene 
was too terrific and too near. He then betook himself to 
the mountains, as the angels had at first told him to do. 
Bereft of nearly all his family ; his wife lost on the verge of 
salvation ; his property, for which he had traveled Sodom- 
ward, and toiled for years amid the most offensive sur- 
roundings, all gone — old, destitute, afflicted and affrighted, 
it is difficult to imagine a man in a more forlorn and miser- 
able plight. Poor man ! he had been building wood, hay, 
and stubble all his life. Now all these things are consumed 
— mercifully consumed — and he is saved, yet as by fire. 

In all the history of Lot we find nothing worthy of imi- 
tation. His selection of the rich pastures of the valley 
of Jordan, leaving to his generous uncle and faithful friend 
and leader nothing but the comparatively barren uplands, 
showed his selfishness. His setting his face Sodomward 
proved that he loved this present world. His family allian- 
ces with men of Sodom are evidences that he was becom- 
ing more and more conformed to the world, notwithstand- 
ing his grief and abhorrence at the filthy conversation and 
ungodly deeds of the Sodomites. Still " the root of the 
matter was in him, ,, and God, by his Holy Spirit, kept it 
alive. " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth," says the- 
apostle ; but what a fearful chastening Lot required ! 



THE MARRIAGE OF ISAAC. 35 

O Christian, beware of setting your face Sodomward. 
The world is still full of Sodoms, and we may be drawn 
towards them and yet know it not. As a man of the world 
Lot chose wisely; for where he settled grass and water were 
in abundance, and he could hardly fail to grow rich. But 
a truly wise man, such as Abraham was, will look higher 
than to broad fertile acres and numerous herds for objects 
upon which to set his heart. Study the brief and sad 
history of Lot, and shun his almost fatal mistakes. He 
gathered property in abundance, no doubt; but his heavenly 
Father had in mercy to tear it from him, and he was saved, 
to use the language of Job, "by the skin of his teeth," 
while not a ray of glory gathers around his memory. 



&&$ ^larrtafl* of %mt. 

The Bible is unlike other ancient histories ; for, while 
these give us nothing but dry details of the doings of warri- 
ors and rulers, that leads us back to the times of the patri- 
archs, shepherds, lawgivers, judges, warriors, prophets and 
kings whose lives and actions make up the staple of its nar- 
rative. The first bring those old generations down to us as 
they would bring dried and shriveled mummies from the 
pyramids and catacombs of Egypt; the other transports us 
back to their tents and dwellings, and we seem to mingle 
with them in their pastoral life, and rejoice or mourn with 
them as we would with our present living friends. The 
stories of Joseph, of Ruth, of the Shunammite, of the 
lovely family who lived at Bethany, and of the still more 
interesting one of which Jesus was the head, are among the 
most notable examples of this living style of history. 

In the 24th chapter of Genesis we have a narrative of 



36 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

surpassing beauty and interest. Isaac has grown to man- 
hood ; Sarah, his mother, is dead ; Abraham, the pilgrim 
and stranger as well as the patriarch and prince, is well 
stricken in age; and the Lord had blessed him in all things. 
He knew that he must soon be called home. His son was 
now the only object of his solicitude ; for in his person were 
bound up the Hope of the world, the Desire of all nations, 
the Promised Seed. 

The whole world was sinking into idolatry. The mist and 
darkness of universal apostasy was slowly settling down upon 
the race of man. One star alone remained unobscured, 
and that star was then only visible in his own child of 
promise ; but by faith he saw, through the vista of many 
generations, the glorious day of the Son of Man. Oh, what 
a terrible thought to that aged and faithful heart that this 
twinkling light, this star of hope, should be quenched for- 
ever in the floods of surrounding idolatry ! True, he rested 
firmly in the promises of his covenant God ; but his faith 
was attested by works and by all the means and precau- 
tions which were in his power. 

There was something in the position of Abraham in the 
world which it is difficult for us, in this age of civilization 
and far-reaching institutions, to understand. Called of God 
to leave Ur of the Chaldees, his native place, he was led 
by successive steps to Canaan, the land which God had said 
he would show him and give him. • 

This land was preoccupied by numerous petty princes 
and their retainers, — subjects, serfs, or servants, just as we 
may choose to call them. The sacred writers generally call 
them servants. Abraham set out from Haran with some 
servants or dependents, and was accompanied by Lot, his 
nephew. When he entered Canaan, he entered it as a pil- 
grim and stranger ; yet he never became subject to any of 
the princes of the country, while at the same time he never 



THE MARRIAGE OF ISAAC. 37 

acquired any dominion over the territory, nor did he build 
any city or permanent habitation. God blessed him greatly 
in the increase of his flocks and herds and in the number of 
his servants. "Thou art a. mighty prince amongst us," 
said the sons of Heth \ yet the only possession he ever ac- 
quired in the land was a burying place. He was a shep- 
herd prince, and lived in peace with his. neighbors all his 
days ; yet were his servants trained to war, and on at least 
one occasion he and they saw a little active service. 

Abraham had one old and faithful servant, who for a long 
time was the steward of his household, Eliezer of Damascus. 
It is said of him that he ruled over* all that Abraham had. 
In virtue of his age and authority, even Isaac himself, now 
grown to manhood, was placed under his authority. To 
him Abraham said, " Put, I pray thee, thy hand under my 
thigh, (then the usual form of an oath) and I will make 
thee swear by Jehovah, the God of heaven and the God of 
earth, that thou shalt not take a wife unto my son of the 
daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I dwell ; but 
thou shalt go unto my country, and to my kindred, and 
take a wife unto my son Isaac," Eliezer gave the required 
pledge, and took upon himself this important and delicate 
trust. He felt the solemn responsibility of this commis- 
sion ; for Abraham had laid upon him two charges, — one, 
that Isaac should not take a wife from among the daughters 
of the Canaanites, the other, that in no case was he to allow 
him to go to Mesopotamia. Then the question arose, Sup- 
pose the woman should not be willing to come with the aged 
servant? "If the woman be not willing to follow thee," 
said Abraham, "then thou shalt be clear from this my oath; 
only bring not my son thither again." 

At the call of God, Abraham had himself left his kindred 
and the land of his nativity to dwell as a stranger in another 
land. He broke off all intercourse with the one country, 

4 



7,8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

and formed no alliances with the other. Paul beautifully 
expresses this in the nth chapter of Hebrews : — " By faith 
he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a strange country, 
dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with 
him of the same promise." The same law which bound 
him, the same covenant into which he had entered, was 
equally binding i^pon his son. Under no circumstances, 
therefore, was he to return to his father's kindred and na- 
tive country. The separation was perfect and entire; and 
the woman who should be his companion in life must first 
become a pilgrim and a stranger like himself. 

No doubt Abraham felt assurance that God would pros- 
per them in this solemn and important business; but his 
language shows us that he had received no divine revela- 
tion to that effect. God had left him to the exercise of a 
wise discretion, just as he leaves us in the conduct of our 
families and our business. 

The Bible calls Eliezer Abraham's servant, and so he was ; 
but it was in the same sense in which an ambassador is the 
servant of his sovereign. In accordance with the usages of 
the times, he set out on his journey with ten camels, with 
attendants, and with rich presents for her who was to be the 
wife of Isaac, and for her friends. His destination was 
Nahor, a city of Mesopotamia, nearly four hundred miles 
from Canaan, — a long journey for those days. 

Arrived at the walls of the city, the good old man felt 
the full difficulty of his position and his need of more than 
man's wisdom and sagacity ; for among the thousands of 
Nahor how should he choose a wife for Isaac? With a faith 
as strong as his master's and simple as that of a little child, 
he referred the matter entirely to God. "And he said, O Lord 
God of rny master Abraham, I pray thee, send me good 
speed this day, and show kindness to my master Abraham. 
Behold, I stand here by the well of water; and the daugh- 



THE MARRIAGE OF ISAAC. 39 

ters of the men of the city come out to draw water ; and 
let it come to pass that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let 
down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink, and she 
shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink, also; let 
the same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant 
Isaac; and thereby shall I know that thou hast showed kind- 
ness unto my master." Was ever prayer so direct, so 
childlike, so circumstantial? It is the very embodiment 
of faith ; and not only so, but it contains a lifelike picture 
of those primitive times, — a picture which we may contem- 
plate from half a dozen different stand-points and every 
view be equally interesting and beautiful. 

The wall of the city, under which Eliezer stood, shows us 
the insecurity of those early times. 

The well by the wall, to which the inhabitants resorted, 
shows us how scarce, and therefore precious, was that bev- 
erage with which we are so profusely supplied. 

" The daughters of the men of the city" coming out to 
draw water, not only for domestic purposes, but for the 
supply of thirsty animals, is another beautiful feature in the 
scene. "Say not," says Solomon, "that the former days 
were better than these;" but we fear that not all the daughters 
of the men of our cities are so usefully or so healthfully em- 
ployed. 

The request that Eliezer proposed to make, and the re- 
sponse he required, as a sign or token of the divine will, is 
an evidence that he well knew the kindness of the female 
heart. It was a sure mark of a good and kind woman, and 
of one who would make an excellent wife. Beauty, or 
wealth, or rank, was not asked. 

Before he had done speaking, Rebecca came out of the 
gate of the city with her pitcher upon her shoulder. She was 
very pretty, or, as the sacred writer expresses it, " very fair 
to look upon." She went down to the well, filled her pitch- 



40 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

er, and came up. Good old Eliezer, having uttered his 
prayer, did not forget what he had asked for, as many of us 
are too apt to do, but proceeded immediately to seek the 
token for which he had prayed. Running to the maiden, 
he said, " Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water of thy 
pitcher. " Promptly, and with the gushing kindness of a 
true woman's heart, she replied, "Drink, my lord;" and, 
lowering the pitcher from her shoulder to her hand, she 
gave him drink ; then — exactly as he had prayed that it 
might be — she added, " I will draw water for thy camels 
also, until they have done drinking." Truly, here was a 
pretty serious undertaking for a woman. There were ten 
camels ; and they drink enormously after traversing a dry 
region, as these had done. But she did it ; and, as pitcher 
after pitcher was poured into the trough, how must the 
old man's heart have bounded with joy at the prompt 
and full answer to his prayer ! Ah ! Rebecca, you are 
giving him water to drink that you know not of! 

This done, Eliezer took a golden ear-ring and a pair of 
massive golden bracelets and put them upon her, and then 
asked her whose daughter she was, and whether there was 
room in her father's house to lodge in. Having told him 
whose daughter she was, she added, " We have both straw 
and provender enough, and room to lodge in." In the 
fullness of his heart, Eliezer " bowed down his head and 
worshiped the Lord, and said, Blessed be the Lord God of 
my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute my master 
of his mercy and his truth : I being in the way, the Lord 
led me to the house of my master's brethren.' ' 

Rebecca's brother Laban, having ascertained in some way 
that a stranger stood at the well, ran out to proffer that hos- 
pitality which was then and still is a marked characteristic 
of the people of the East. There were no public houses ; 
and what are called inns in the Scripture probably did not 



THE MARRIAGE OF ISAAC. 4 1 

then exist. These inns were large square buildings, erected 
at public expense, where caravans and other travelers could 
find shelter; but usually they had to provide and prepare 
their own food. They are more properly called caravan- 
saries. Whether there was any such establishment at Nahor 
or not, Laban quickly prepared his house for the reception 
of the stranger and his attendants, and made provision for 
their animals. In this he did nothing remarkable for that 
age of the world. In the 18th chapter of Genesis we have 
a most interesting account of Abraham's hospitality, and, 
in the 19th, of Lot's. Paul enjoins the same virtue upon 
Christians, adding " for thereby some have entertained 
angels unawares/ ' alluding to Abraham, Lot, Manoah, and 
perhaps others. 

Before Laban reached Eliezer, his sister had informed 
him of who the stranger was, and of all that had taken 
place. He then went to him. and in the fullness of his 
heart he exclaimed, " Come in, thou blessed of the Lord: 
wherefore standest thou without ? for I have prepared the 
house and room for the camels." 

Now let us follow the earnest old man into the house. 
Almost immediately food was set before him; " but he 
said, I will not eat until I have told mine errand." He then 
told them the whole story of Abraham's prosperity, of his 
son, of his own commission in regard to obtaining a wife 
for him, of his prayer for a token from the Lord as to the 
person he had chosen for Isaac's wife, and of his finding in 
Rebecca the exact token for which he had prayed. " And 
now," said he, " if ye will deal kindly and truly with my 
master, tell me ; and if not, tell me, that I may turn to 
the right hand or to the left." Truly this was coming 
quickly to the point in-so delicate a matter; but the simple 
hearted faith and piety of Eliezer had brought the divine 
will to be so unmistakably manifest in the transaction that 

4* 



4 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

there could be but one answer to his proposal. " The thing 
proceedeth from Jehovah," said Laban and Bethuel : "we 
cannot speak unto thee either bad or good." The consent of 
all parties was at once obtained. Then Eliezer again bowed 
his head and worshiped; and, having bestowed upon the 
bride elect and upon her friends the princely presents with 
which Abraham had furnished him, he and his attendants ate 
and drank. Can the history of the world show us another 
such ambassador, if we except Him who said, "My meat is 
to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work?" 

Very naturally Rebecca's mother and brother plead with 
Eliezer that she might abide with them a little while longer, 
if it were but ten days. But no; it must not be. "Hinder 
me not," said the faithful man, "seeing the Lord hath pros- 
pered my way." Rebecca promptly consented to go the 
next morning ; and so they set off, followed by the bene- 
dictions of the family. 

At length the company reached Canaan ; and the first 
incident mentioned is their meeting with Isaac, who had 
gone in the evening to walk and meditate. A stranger 
in the land of his birth, without brother or sister, his 
mother's grave yet wet with his tears, and his venerable 
father sinking under the infirmities of age, well might he 
commune with his own heart and with his covenant God as 
he walked and was sad. And the embassy of Eliezer would, 
moreover, be a subject of anxiety and solicitude. But pres- 
ently he was aroused by the sound of an approaching cara- 
van, and, looking up, he saw Eliezer and his companions 
coming, accompanied by a young woman. Suffice it to say 
that Rebecca immediately became the wife of Isaac, — the 
mistress of his mother's tent;, "and," adds the historian, 
with that peculiar tact which throws a volume of meaning 
into a few simple words, "Isaac was comforted after his 
mother's death." 



PHARAOH AND JOSEPH. 43 

The Pharaoh who ruled Egypt when Joseph was carried 
down into that country as a captive and a bondman, was 
evidently a man who possessed many excellent qualities, at 
the foundation of which lay good common sense, and an 
honest desire for the well-being of his people. He was not 
a vain boaster, like Nebuchadnezzar, nor a thoughtless and 
capricious tyrant, like Ahasuerus, nor a reveller and drunk- 
ard, like Belshazzar; but was a temperate man, as we may 
learn from the dream which his butler had in the prison. 
"Pharaoh's cup was in my hand," said he, in relating his 
dream to Joseph; "and I took the grapes, and pressed them 
into Pharaoh's cup, and I gave the cup into Pharaoh's 
hand." His dream had taken him back to his accustomed 
service, and was prophetic of his restoration to favor, and 
to that service. He plucked the grapes from the vine, 
pressed the juice into the cup, and gave it to the king. As it 
would be impossible for a man to become intoxicated on 
such wine as that, although it would be a pleasant and re- 
freshing beverage, we infer that Pharaoh, who was so kind 
to Joseph, and so heedful of the heavenly warning given in 
his own remarkable dreams, was a man strictly temperate in 
his habits. 

When those strange dreams filled the mind of the mon- 
arch while he slept, and left it full of anxiety when he 
awoke — dreams which none of the wise men of Egypt could 
interpret, or even pretend to interpret — Joseph was in prison 
under a false accusation. The pardoned and restored 
butler, who was so deeply indebted to him, had forgotten 
him \ and of all the men in Egypt, none seemed less likely 
than he to b^ called to office and to supreme power. Bmt 
God, in whom he trusted, had not forgotten him. 



44 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Pharaoh's trouble about his own double dream recalled 
Joseph to the mind of the butler, and like an honest man, 
as he doubtless was, he promptly said to the king, " I do 
remember my faults this day ;" and then he rehearsed the 
matter of his own and the baker's dreams in the prison, and 
Joseph's accurate interpretation. Without hesitation or de- 
lay Pharaoh called for Joseph ; and as quickly as he could 
shave and change his raiment Joseph presented himself be- 
fore him. Let us imagine, if we can, that young stranger, 
that foreign slave, who was suddenly summoned from a 
prison to the presence of the mightiest prince then living. 
Not a sign of trepidation do we find in the youthful hero 
whom the King of Heaven has chosen as his ambassador to 
one of the kings of the earth ; yet is he as humble and 
modest, as he is calm, resolute and dignified. 

" And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, I have dreamed a dream, 
and there is none that can interpret it ; and I have heard 
say of thee that thou canst understand a dream to inter- 
pret it." 

The reply of Joseph is among the grandest utterances on 
record. The king had said he had heard that he could un- 
derstand a dream and interpret it ; but the whole soul of 
Joseph rose in revolt against the false impression that this 
knowledge was in him, and against the sin of robbing God 
of his glory ; so, rising to the dignity of a prophet, he ex- 
claimed, "It is not in me; God shall give Pharaoh an 
answer of peace." 

The king then told his dream, his double dream, of the 
kine and of the ears of corn (Gen. xli. 17-24) which need 
not be quoted. Joseph then spoke : a The dream of Pharaoh 
is one; God hath showed Pharaoh what he is about to do." 
Then came the interpretation in clear and circumstantial de- 
tail (26-32). That hall, we may be sure, was crowded 
with the great men of Egypt, its statesmen, its wise men 



PHARAOH AND JOSEPH. 45 

and its warriors ; but the words of the young Hebrew 
prophet, as he so calmly and so grandly lifted the dark 
curtain of the coming years, would fill every soul with ad- 
miration and awe ; and in every heart would arise the 
thought, " A greater than Pharaoh is here !" Then, under 
Divine guidance, the youthful prophet assumed the role of 
the counselor, and continued, "Now, therefore, let Pharaoh 
look out a man discreet and wise, and set him over the land 
of Egypt. Let Pharaoh do this, and let him appoint officers 
over the land, and take up the fifth part of the land of Egypt 
in the seven plenteous years ; and let them gather all the 
food of those good years that come, and lay up corn under 
the hand of Pharaoh, and let them keep food in the cities ; 
and that food shall be for store to the land against the seven 
years of famine which shall be in the land of Egypt, that 
the land perish not through the famine." 

The dreams, the clear, God-given interpretation, and the 
wisdom of the counsel all combined to carry such profound 
conviction to the minds of all present, the king included, 
that, without discussion, the advice was taken, and that 
discreet and wise man was chosen to take charge of this 
business of transcendent importance. Let the inspired 
writer tell the story of his appointment : 

" And Pharaoh said unto his servants, Can we find such 
a one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is ?" 
Then turning to Joseph he said, " Forasmuch as God hath 
shewed thee all this, there is none so discreet and wise as 
thou art : thou shalt be over my house, and according unto 
thy word shall all my people be ruled ; only in the throne 
will I be greater than thou. And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, 
See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh 
took off his ring from his hand and put it upon Joseph's 
hand, and arrayed him in vestures of fine linen, and put a 
gold chain about his neck, and he made him to ride in the 



46 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

second chariot which he had ; and they cried, Bow the knee ; 
and he made him ruler over all the land of Egypt.' ' 

Thus was Joseph exalted to the position of a prince and 
a saviour, and all power in Egypt put into his hands. In 
this he stands as the fullest and most perfect type of Him 
to whom is given all power in heaven and earth. And yet, in 
the midst of all this power and grandeur he is the same kind, 
humble, gentle, tender and affectionate Joseph that he was 
when his father sent him to Shechem to inquire after the 
welfare of his brethren ; as our Saviour Prince, in his seat 
of power and glory in heaven, is still, our brother, and is 
calling to us, as Joseph called to his brethren who had treat- 
ed him so cruelly, " Come near to me, I pray you! ,, 

It may be that Pharaoh, like many of the best men of 
that age, was a believer in and a worshiper of the Most 
High God. His language on this great occasion rather 
favors that impression ; and in the first chapter of Exodus, 
speaking of a period long after Joseph lived, there is a very 
significant expression in these words : "Now there arose up 
a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph." But 
whatever he may have been, he certainly acted on this oc- 
casion the part of a wise and good man. It was perhaps 
ten or twelve years after this, when the starving people cried 
to him for food, that he told them to "go unto Joseph, and 
what he saith unto you do." How strongly do these words 
of that kind and faithful monarch bring to mind the words 
of our Heavenly King, the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ — "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased ; hear ye him /" 

Pharaoh saw, as soon as he learned what was coming 
upon Egypt, that he needed a man to take charge of an 
important public trust, a man of great executive ability, 
wise, faithful and true ; and here God, who sent the warn- 
ing dream, set before him a man so full of grace and truth, 



PHARAOH AND JOSEPH. 47 

so discreet and wise, that he made choice of him at once to 
take charge of this important business. Pharaoh's words to 
his surrounding courtiers, to the statesmen of Egypt, ought 
to sink deeply into the hearts of Christian citizens when they 
are called, as he was, to exercise the highest prerogative of 
sovereignty. The candidate was before him, and other 
names of able and upright men were doubtless in his mind. 
But he asked, " Can we find such a one as this is — a man 
in whom the Spirit of God is?" A good man, a God fear- 
ing man, was what he wanted. 

But suppose there had been in the court of Pharaoh as 
much freedom of discussion as we have in our politics, and 
suppose a host of ambitious aspirants to the great and hon- 
orable trust had been pressing their claims, what eloquent 
harangues could have been made against the candidate ! 
"What! set a Hebrew captive, a man undercharge of a 
shameful crime, a released prisoner, an alien, perhaps an 
enemy, over all Egypt, and invest him with supreme power !" 
Ten thousand strong objections could have been urged 
against such a step. But only one argument could be 
urged in favor of the appointment, and that outweighed in 
the mind of this kind, gentle and sensible monarch, all such 
objections — he is a wise and good man, and the Spirit of 
God is in him. In short, Joseph was what in our country 
would be known as an eminent Christian. But we may be 
sure that the statesmen, councilors and wise men who sur- 
rounded the throne at that moment heartily acquiesced in 
the choice of the sovereign, and that Joseph entered upon 
the duties of his high office amid the joyful shouts of the 
populace. 

Pharaoh was right, as subsequent events proved ; and his 
wise example is put on record for the guidance of appoint- 
ing powers in all generations, whether autocratic or popu- 
lar. God has set this great example before those who are 



48 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

invested with the right and the awful responsibility of suf- 
frage, and by it bids them call good men to office and none 
other — men whose lives attest that the Spirit of God is in 
them, as Pharaoh saw that it was in Joseph. There are 
' Christian men enough in our country to regulate this matter, 
if they would only stand up sternly to their principles, and 
make it a losing business on the part of our active poli- 
ticians to set up scoundrels, drunkards, profane swearers, or 
men whose lives show that they have no fear of God before 
their eyes, as candidates for their suffrages. 

Pharaoh who made this appointment was an autocrat and 
did just as he pleased, so far as men were concerned. It 
was his own sovereign will and pleasure that Joseph should fill 
that new, peculiar and exalted station, just as much as it was 
the will of a majority of the voters of the United States that 
UJysses S. Grant should be their chief magistrate — in both 
cases the highest earthly power. But let us see how Joseph 
himself regarded this exaltation. After he had made him- 
self known to his astonished brethren, he said, " God hath 
made me a father to Pharaoh, and Lord of all his house, 
and a ruler throughout all the land of Egypt. Haste ye, 
and go up to my father and say unto him, Thus saith thy 
son Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt ; come 
down unto me, tarry not." Here the agency of Pharaoh is 
utterly ignored, and God is all in all. Was this supersti- 
tion ? was it an over-wrought recognition of the Providence 
of God? or was it the highest wisdom and the purest truth? 
Who dare say that Joseph was wrong in this solemn decla- 
ration? Well, if he was right, who that is called to office, 
whether by popular suffrage or executive appointment, can 
say anything less? There was just as much of human in- 
strumentality in the case of Joseph as in that of the Presi- 
dent, or any member of Congress, or any judge, or any 
officer of whatever grade ; and every one of them should 



JACOB S LADDER. 49 

feel and say as he did, " God hath made me what I am." 
Joseph, in the exercise of his official duties, rendered to 
Pharaoh the things which were Pharaoh's, and to God the 
things which were God's; and if our officers felt as he did, 
there would be more faithfulness on their part, and better 
government than we now have. Joseph and Daniel have 
been set before us as exemplars of what great executive 
officers ought to be ; and in the heaven-directed example 
of Pharaoh, the citizens may learn for whom to vote. "Can 
we," said he, "find such a one as this is, a man in whom 
the Spirit of God is?" Citizens, ponder these words; for it 
is as true in your case, as it was in the case of Joseph, that 
God has made you what you are — an American citizen ; 
and to him, as your Supreme Master, you are responsible 
for the manner in which you exercise your power. 



The narrative of the life of Jacob, from first to last, is a 
strange story. The faults of his early life are told with a 
directness and simplicity which attest, as nothing else can, 
the perfect fidelity of the inspired record ; while the storms 
of sorrow which darkened his old age are depicted with un- 
exampled pathos. Yet, amid all this sin and sorrow, we see 
him lifted higher by the hand of God than any other man of 
his generation, and made the channel of boundless blessings 
to his race. We see him exalted high above his fellow men, 
a land-mark in the stream of time. In no biography in the 
Scriptures is the sovereignty of God more strikingly exem- 
plified than in that of Jacob ; and in none of the early 
saints do we see such a triumph of divine grace over inhe- 
rent depravity; for a son who could act the part which 

5 



5<D GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Jacob did in the matter of the savory food brought to his 
aged and blind father, could lay no claim to native good- 
ness of character. Although Jacob was not cut off by that 
act from his covenanted blessings, yet, like David in the 
matter of Uriah, he met with soul-crushing retribution in 
after life through the wickedness and perfidy of his own 
sons. 

Soon after that sad and humiliating transaction in the 
family of Isaac, Jacob, in obedience to his father's command, 
leaves home to go to the kindred of his grandfather Abra- 
ham in the East, to Padan-aram, to Laban, his mother's 
brother. It was nearly the same journey which Eliezer, the 
servant of Abraham, had taken some years before to bring a 
wife for Isaac. But Eliezer went with attendants, and with 
ten camels laden with presents, and with provisions for the 
journey. Jacob, on the other hand, set out alone, with 
nothing but a scrip and a staff. It was a sore trial, a bit- 
ter cross ; but, penitent and sad, he seems to have taken it 
up without a murmur. 

Mark the narrative closely, and see in it the comparative 
barbarism of that age: ."And Jacob went out from Beer- 
sheba, and went toward Haran ; and he lighted upon a 
certain place and tarried there all night, because the sun 
was set ; and he took of the stones of that place and put 
them for his pillow, and lay down in that place to sleep." 
It was a dark and rude age; and in judging of the charac- 
ter and actions of the men of that age, it is well to bear in 
mind that they lacked most of the benefits and blessings of 
civilization, and that they were utterly destitute of litera- 
ture. 

Pensive and sad the poor wanderer laid himself down 
upon his hard and lonely couch. His thoughts upon 
the past could give him little comfort. His future was 
dark. True, he had his father's blessing, and his father's 



JACOB'S LADDER. SI 

God had promised good. Bat these could not pierce 
through the gloom which gathered over his soul in this first 
night of his exile. But of God it is written, " He giveth 
his beloved sleep ;" so that night he gave Jacob sleep, and 
not only sleep, but a dream, a glorious vision, the very 
mention of which stirs the hearts of the people of all ages. 
It is poetry of the loftiest and profoundest kind ; it is 
prophecy of the highest order. Under the similitude of a 
ladder, heaven and earth are united by a way over which 
angels ascend and descend. The lower end stood beside 
this poor weary one, this almost outcast, this father of a 
nation and representative of his race ; while Jehovah stood 
above it and spoke to him in tones of loving kindness, an- 
nouncing himself as the God of his fathers, reiterating the 
gracious promises made to them, and assuring him of pro- 
tection and of personal blessings. No wonder that Jacob 
awoke in astonishment and exclaimed, " Surely Jehovah is 
in this place, and I knew it not !" 

What Jacob saw was not a figment, but was and is the 
greatest of realities ; for that ladder yet stands, reaching 
across the immeasurable chasm which separates earth from 
heaven, and which, but for it, would be separated by a 
great gulf over which none could pass. That ladder is 
Christ. He is the Way over which angels travel on errands 
of good ; the Way over which God himself comes to dwell 
with men ; the Way up which the prayer of faith climbs ; 
the Way by which we come to God ; and the Way over 
which the redeemed shall travel when they ascend to glory. 
Jacob lived at the early dawn of revelation ; and thus it 
pleased Him, who in after ages manifested himself to the 
people of Israel as man, and as God manifest in the flesh, 
to show himself to the prime ancestor of that people under 
this similitude. So Jacob saw Christ, and lived henceforth 
a life of faith. 



52 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The narrative, in all its strange and stupendous grandeur, 
is full of Christ. His infinite nature, like Jacob's ladder, 
reaches from earth to heaven, from us poor wandering, 
sinful, sorrowing fugitives, as Jacob was that night, up to 
the throne of the Eternal, opening a Way over which the 
redeemed can pass by acts of faith, and finally go home to 
be with Him; and over which our guardian angels go to 
and fro, glad to have such a Way and such a service. 

We know from Jacob's exclamation, that he felt himself 
to be nearer to God than ever he had been before. We may 
be very sure that he rejoiced in that nearness, and that the 
longing of his heart would be just like this : 

tl Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me ; 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee !" 

Let us keep Jacob's emotions blended with our own while 
we run through the other stanzas of that sweet hymn, in 
which that great vision is kept constantly in view. True, 
Jacob did not know, as we know, the story of the Son of 
Mary; nevertheless he was made glad in the love of his 
God, and in the promised Seed. But we can look upon 
the ladder in the light which shines upon us from the New 
Testament, and see as Jacob could not see, how all centres 
in Christ. Had Jacob been favored, as we are, with the 
story of Jesus, he too could have sung, as he thought upon, 
the vision : 

"Though like a wanderer, 
The sun gone down, 
Darkness comes over me, 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet in my dreams I'd be 




Jacob's ladder. 53 

Nearer, my God, to thee, 
Nearer to thee ! 

u There let my way appear 

Steps unto heaven, 
All that thou, sendest me 

In mercy given ; 
Angels to beckon me 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee !" 

Now see the beautiful allusion to this part of the narra- 
tive : "And Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took 
the stone that he had put for his pillow, and set it up for a 
pillar, and poured oil upon the top of it ; and he called the 
name of that place Bethel.' ' The gifted authoress sees in 
these stones emblems of life's griefs and trials, the best of 
all materials out of which the true believer can rear his 

Bethel. 

u Then with my waking thoughts 
Bright with thy praise, 
Out of my stony griefs 

Bethel I'll raise ; 
So by my woes to be 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 
Nearer to thee ! 

" Or if on joyful wing, 
Cleaving the sky, 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, 

Upward I fly ; 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 
* Nearer to thee 1" 

This almost peerless hymn has been objected to because 
there is in it no direct mention of Christ. But what is the 
hymn but a filling out of the favored exile's emotions, as 
indicated by his brief exclamation and his subsequent acts 
of worship? The light is only that of the book of Genq- 

5* 



54 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

sis, not that of the evangelists ; but the aspirations are as 
high as it is given to believers in this life to reach. It is a 
beautiful blending of patriarchal faith with the clearer and 
brighter hopes which shine in the New Testament. In that 
clearer light the Christian can see that that ladder was 
Christ ; and so seeing, he sees that the hymn just quoted is 
full of Christ. The Deist may accept and admire the 
hymn as speaking only to an absolute Deity; but the 
Christian is not likely to forget the words of his Lord : 
" No man cometh unto the Father but by me." If the one 
cannot see Christ in the ladder, the other can. 

It is very much to be regretted that a controversy, in 
which there is very little of the spirit of Christ, has arisen 
over this hymn ; and that some one has even gone so far as 
to hitch on a clumsy addendum, in which the Saviour is 
expressly named. Paul, in one place, speaks of the letter 
which killeth ; and truly such jealous care for orthodoxy 
of expression is a strong case illustrative of the truth of the 
apostle's words. He who cannot see Christ as the Way, 
the Truth and the Life in the ladder which God showed to 
Jacob while asleep upon his hard and lonely couch, had 
perhaps better confine himself to other parts of the in- 
spired volume. But I beg that he will not interfere by his 
grumbling with the poor, weak, but loving souls who can 
climb nearer to God upon this sacred song. God gave to 
Sarah F. Adams the genius, the faith, and the devotion 
which enabled her to give it to us. May we not believe 
that it came to us, as do all true blessings, down that 
Ladder? 



JACOB'S INTERVIEW WITH PHARAOH. 55 



proft'is Interview ivitft §ftaaoft. 

Driven by famine, the patriarch Jacob and his family 
repaired to Egypt, at the invitation of his son Joseph, of 
which God had made him the ruler. His life had been one 
of sorrow and various and sore trials. But God had been 
his Guide and Portion; and now, in his old age, he has 
found a haven of rest in a strange land, under the protec- 
tion of his illustrious son, with all his children and grand- 
children around him. 

"And Joseph brought in Jacob his father, and set him 
before Pharaoh ; and Jacob blessed Pharaoh. And Pharaoh 
said unto Jacob, How old art thou ? And Jacob said unto 
Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an 
hundred and thirty years : few and evil have the days of 
the years of my pilgrimage been." Is this the language of 
complaint ? No ; but it is the language of humility. At 
that age of the world, perhaps more than at present, length 
of days challenged veneration and respect ; but Jacob en- 
deavored to convince the king that no special honor was 
due to him on account of venerable age. His days, in his 
own esteem, had been not only few but evil, marred by 
sin and clouded with sorrow. His life — his long life, as 
we should esteem it — appeared to him, in the retrospect, 
but as a vapor which had appeared for a little while and 
was about to vanish away. The years of his childhood now 
looked like a speck in the dim distance. The twenty-one 
years of service in Padan-aram were contracted to a hand- 
breadth in the receding vista of memory. The frequent 
visits of his Almighty Friend and Guardian and Guide 
would seem to crowd nearer and nearer together in his re- 
collection, as the every-day scenes of life faded away ; and 



56 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

his own grievous sins would, like David's, be ever before 
him. 

This was the time when the period of human life was 
rapidly diminishing. Noah had lived nine hundred and 
fifty years, and died but one year before the birth of Abra- 
ham. The life of Shem was protracted to six hundred 
years. Arphaxad, his son, lived four hundred and thirty- 
eight years. At the death of Arphaxad, Abraham was one 
hundred and twenty-five years old, and Isaac twenty-five. 

Thus we see how rapidly the span of human life was 
diminishing. Jacob's whole life extended to one hundred 
and forty-seven years, and Joseph lived one hundred and 
ten. But two hundred years after the death of Joseph 
Moses wrote, " The days of our years are three-score years 
and ten; and if by reason of strength they be four-score 
years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow ; for it is soon 
cut off, and we fly away ;" and so the period of man's life 
has continued ever since. Moses himself lived to a much 
greater age; but his life and strength were miraculously 
preserved. During a period of about eight hundred years, 
therefore, extending from the Flood to the time of Moses, 
human life was reduced from almost a thousand years to 
less than one hundred. It need not excite surprise, there- 
fore, to hear Jacob say, after having lived one hundred and 
thirty years, that his days had been few. 

" The days of the years of my pilgrimage," says the 
patriarch. Although life and immortality had been but dark- 
ly and obscurely revealed, yet Paul expressly tells us that 
Jacob was one of those who looked for "a, better country, 
even an heavenly," and so regarded themselves as strangers 
and pilgrims upon the earth. " My pilgrimage !" The lan- 
guage does not refer to his wanderings in early life, nor to 
his late journey to Egypt ; but it teaches us that Jacob 
habitually regarded life as only a journey, a pilgrimage 



Jacob's interview with pharaoh. 57 

through this world to his everlasting habitation, to those 
mansions of which the Saviour speaks. Not a journey to 
the grave, — for even that is but a temporary resting place 
for the mortal part of the believer, — but to heaven. 

There is something sublimely beautiful, as well as sad, in 
the picture which the patriarch gives of his own life. His 
days had been few, — far short of those of his ancestors. 
Jacob sighed at the thought that the strength of man, 
which, a few generations back, had enabled him to sustain 
the buffetings of nearly a thousand years, was so rapidly 
giving way that he found himself a wreck at the end of a 
single century. And his days had been not only few, but 
evil. His life had been one of sorrow. Jacob had been 
sorely chastened, but it was all for his profit ; and now he 
stands at the end of his rough journey, filled with hope, 
and with little else to do but to bestow his parting blessing 
upon those he loved, and take his place with Abraham and 
Isaac in the kingdom of his Father. 

It is evident from Jacob's language that he habitually 
regarded this life as only a pilgrimage. The very word 
presupposes a place towards which the pilgrim is journey- 
ing, — a rest, a home, an abiding habitation. It is one 
thing to feel and acknowledge this at times when solemn 
scenes or serious reflections press the truth upon the mind ; 
but it is a very different thing to entertain it as an habitual, 
ever-present thought. This is what we ought to aim at, to 
cultivate and cherish, until the thought of heaven shall be 
the same to us as the thought of home is to the wayworn 
traveler as he is returning from a long and weary journey. 
Then will the evils and toils of the journey be lightly 
esteemed and easily borne; and the provisions for the pil- 
grimage, which " the Lord of the way " has kindly provided, 
be estimated at their proper value, thankfully received, and 
richly enjoyed. If our days be few, it is well: we- are the 



58 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

sooner home. If they are evil, if the way be rough and 
toilsome, no matter: heaven will bring us sweeter rest. 
The Saviour's command is, " Lay up for yourselves treas- 
ures in heaven, that where your treasure is your hearts 
may be also." This precept harmonizes sweetly with that 
of which we are speaking; for let our treasure and our 
hearts be in heaven, and it will be easy to feel that our life 
is but a pilgrimage, — that we are going home. 

Jacob lived one hundred and forty-seven years on earth; 
but he has already been more than three thousand years in 
heaven. His pilgrimage on earth to us appears to have 
been long and weary ; but how short it must appear in his 
view now ! His trials were severe ; but now he sees that 
those light afflictions, which were but for a moment, worked 
for him a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. 



>mm m& mm M io& Wivt? 

The land of Uz, named perhaps after Uz, one of the 
grandsons of Shem, was probably situated in that part of 
Arabia now known as Arabia Felix. This opinion is strength- 
ened by the fact that the Sabeans, an ancient tribe who are 
known to have occupied a part of that fine region, are 
mentioned in the first chapter among those who slew the 
servants of Job and swept away his property. The Chal- 
deans, it is true, are also mentioned; but as their predatory 
and conquering raids extended far from their seat of 
empire, while the Sabeans were but a comparatively small 
tribe, this fact does not militate against the hypothesis that 
Job's residence was in Arabia Felix. His locality, how- 
ever, is uncertain, and is a question of secondary import- 
ance. 



WHERE AND WHEN DID JOB LIVE? 59 

Some persons have doubted whether such a man as Job 
ever existed, regarding him rather as a dramatic myth, like 
the poor man in Nathan's parable, or like the Prodigal Son. 
But there is no good reason for entertaining such an opin- 
ion; for in Ezekiel xiv., God himself speaks of Job, in 
connection with Noah and Daniel, as a person of eminent 
piety, and James holds him up as an example of patience. 
These references ought to settle all doubt on that point. 

But the question, When did he live ? is by far the more 
interesting and important. Mr. Scott, in his Commentary, 
and in his introduction to the Book of Job, remarks on this 
point : " It is very likely that Job was in his first prosperity 
between the time when Joseph died and the appearance of 
Moses in Pharaoh's court as Israel's deliverer." But I 
think that in this opinion that eminent commentator is 
mistaken, and that this hypothesis takes away very much of 
the interest which clusters around the record of that 
ancient and mysterious saint. 

Since the fall of man there have been three distinct dis- 
pensations of true religion among men. The first began 
with Adam. Under it, Abel offered acceptable sacrifice. 
Under it, Enoch was a preacher of righteousness, walked 
with God, and was translated. Under it, Noah also be- 
came a preacher of righteousness, and by faith, and in obe- 
dience to the divine command, "prepared an ark to the 
saving of his house," and thus became a second ancestor of 
the race. Under it, those who worshiped the true God 
separated themselves from the corrupt progeny of Cain, 
even in the days of Adam and Seth, and were known as 
"the sons of God."* And again, in the time of Noah, 
these "sons of God" are mentioned as relaxing in their 



*It is a notable fact that the true worshipers of Jehovah are twice called by the 
same term in the book of Job (chapters i . 6, and ii . i.) lu no other place are 
they spoken of distinctively by that term. 



60 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

habits as a holy and peculiar people, and intermingling by 
marriage with the daughters of men — men whose worship was 
corrupt, if they had any at all. Thus, just before the 
flood, "all flesh had corrupted his way upon the earth." 
Noah alone held fast to his integrity. 

After the flood, Noah built an altar and offered sacrifice, 
and the Lord accepted his offering. Thus was the true wor- 
ship of the antediluvian world — of Adam, and Abel, and 
Seth, and Enoch — carried over that great dividing catastro- 
phe by Noah, and still continued by his faithful descendants 
until a new dispensation was slowly evolved in Abraham and 
his posterity. Melchisedek, the priest of the most high God, 
doubtless belonged to this earliest dispensation ; and to this 
same era and dispensation I would assign the date and the 
place of Job. 

The third dispensation began with the incarnation of our 
Lord, and will continue until the consummation of all things. 
It embraces in itself all that is true, glorious and immutable 
in both the preceding dispensations. 

It is remarkable that a veil is drawn over the religious 
history of the race from Noah until Abraham. In Melchis- 
edek we get a momentary glimpse of the true faith which 
still shone, but with slowly decreasing lustre, in the outside 
world ; and in the answer of Laban and Bethuel to Eliezer, 
touching the matter of their sister becoming the wife of 
Isaac — "The thing proceedeth from Jehovah; we cannot 
speak unto thee bad or good," — we see an acknowledgment 
of the overruling Providence of Jehovah; although we af- 
terwards learn that this same Laban had idol gods in his 
house. Thus slowly, through centuries, did the light of this 
earliest dispensation grow dim, until at length darkness set- 
tled down upon the whole earth, except the little spot 
occupied by Abraham's children of promise. 

Now let us see whether the life and habits of Job — his 



WHEN AND WHERE DID JOB LIVE? • 6 1 

mode of worship, so far as we know it — the doctrines uttered 
by himself and his friends — taken in connection with his 
domestic establishment as a patriarch prince, and his great 
longevity, will fix him in any period later than Abraham. 
It is, I think, more probable that he lived before Abraham, 
and that neither of these great men knew anything of the 
other. 

His continual habit of offering sacrifices for his children 
mark him a priest of the most high God, as was Melchise- 
dek; and in his mode of worship he walked in the footsteps 
of his ancestors, Enoch and Noah. In the sublime general 
truths uttered by himself and his friends (for his friends 
uttered truths as well as he, but erred in their application), 
we see a reflex, rather, of the antediluvian theology than of 
that pertaining to the Abrahamic covenant. Enoch proph- 
esied of Christ when he said, (Jude 14, 15) " Behold he 
cometh with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment 
upon all," etc.; and Job's exultant cry out of the depths — 
" I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand 
at the latter day upon the earth* ' — is very much like it. Both 
prophecies reach to the Resurrection and the Judgment, and 
dimly foreshadow the Incarnation. The truths are grand, 
but lack the distinctness of Moses and the Prophets, and 
still more that of Christ and the Apostles. It is a true light 
from Heaven, glorious, yet nebulous — bright, but not con- 
centrated in a central orb. 

Job was a shepherd prince, and it is written of him, that 
"this man was the greatest of air the men of the East." In 
the ages immediately succeeding the deluge, there were 
numerous shepherd princes, some of them very powerful. 
A confederation of such princes conquered Egypt before 
the birth of Abraham; and it is believed that the king who 
reigned when Abraham, like Jacob, was driven by stress of 
famine to visit that country, (Gen. xii.) was one of these 

6 



62 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

shepherd kings. Before the time of Joseph, however, they 
had been expelled; and hence it was that shepherds were 
regarded as abominable by the Egyptians in his day. 

If we would know what Job's ^position among his fellow 
men was in the days of his first prosperity, we need only 
turn to his own vigorous portraiture of it in the twenty- 
ninth chapter — a picture which would not apply to any 
period later than the purely patriarchal — a period which 
reached through the antediluvian world, and through the 
post-diluvian world to the time of Abraham, Isaac and 
Jacob. 

Of the age of Job, at the time when his calamities fell 
upon him, we can only reason inferentially. But that a 
man in early life could have attained to the wealth, position 
and authority to which he had attained, is altogether im- 
probable. Moreover his children at that time were all living 
separately in their own houses. Again : when Elihu began 
to speak, he accounted for his previous silence by saying, " I 
am young, and ye are very old;" and in saying this he ad- 
dressed his words to Job, as much as to his three aged 
friends. Again : Eliphaz the Temanite, in one of his ad- 
dresses to Job said, " With us are the greyheaded and very 
aged men, much elder than thy father ; intimating that, 
old as Job was his father was yet alive. Now take all 
these in connection with what we read at the close of the 
book — "After this lived Job an hundred and forty years, 
and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, even four generations." 
and it almost obliges us to'infer that the life of Job extended 
over a period of more than two, probably not less than 
three, centuries, and that, consequently, he lived during the 
period between the flood and the calling of Abraham. 
Abraham lived one hundred and seventy-five years ; Isaac, 
one hundred and eighty; Jacob, one hundred and forty- 
seven ; Joseph, one hundred and ten. About two hun- 



WHERE AND WHEN DID JOB LIVE? 6$ 

dred years after die death of Joseph, Moses wrote : "The 
days of our years are three-score years and ten ; and if, by 
reason of strength, they be four-score years, yet is their 
strength labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we 
fly away." We see, therefore, that in the days of Joseph 
the period of human life was greatly diminished as com- 
pared with what it had been a very few generations before; 
and that in the time of Moses it was as short as it is now. 
How, then, are we to assign the place of this long-lived 
man to the period intervening between the death of Joseph 
and the exodus from Egypt ? 

This cannot be; for everything about the book — its hero 
and his friends, its sublime but peculiar theology, its strange 
and mysterious narratives — all bear the impress of the most 
hoary antiquity. In it, as I love to believe, God has fixed 
in permanence a bright coruscation of that light which 
shined upon the pathway of Enoch and Noah, and illumi- 
nated the altar of Melchisedek ; and that in Jesus Christ, 
that " Priest forever after the order of Melchisedek/ ' we 
have that earliest and most magnificent light, blended with 
the more definite and peculiar light of Moses and the 
prophets, all combined — not lost, but swallowed up — in his 
more glorious light. Thus viewed, how intensely interest- 
ing do the profound reasonings of these very ancient men 
become, as they grappled with difficulties too hard for 
them, and groped their way through such nebulous rays as 
it had pleased God to give them i 



64 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



^M$ §t$ltt Mft lop* 

Job earnestly longed for the grave as a place "where the 
wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." 
Whether the afflicted patriarch looked forward to that higher 
and better world where is fullness of life, fullness of joy, 
we cannot tell. Probably not. He yearned for mere rest, 
absolute quietude. In his day the life and immortality so 
grandly set forth in the Gospel had been so dimly revealed 
that he could not take up the dying shout of the great 
Apostle, " Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall 
give me at that day." Still his language is sublimely 
beautiful, full of hope and consolation. He saw in 
death something very much to be desired. To him the 
grave was not enshrouded in the blackness of darkness for- 
ever. Some light, some hope, some good not yet revealed, 
awakened fond desire; and although that hope had nothing 
in it more definite than an unshaken persuasion of his own 
immortality, and that God would bless him in it, he bursts 
out in the sublime utterance quoted above. 

Jesus, with all his holiness and power, although enjoying 
always the infinite love of his Father, and with all the glory, 
triumph and joy that lay before him, was a man of sorrows, 
because of the troubling of the wicked. In his pure eyes 
sin was exceedingly sinful, unspeakably loathsome ; and to 
his infinite dignity the scorn, the scoffs, the contempt of men 
must have been intensely painful, notwithstanding the meek- 
ness and patience with which they were borne. In this form 
of trial Christ was made like unto his brethren, only that his 
cup was more bitter that theirs, in the degree that his nature 
was higher and holier than theirs. 

The troubling of the wicked is a part, and an important 



job's desire and hope. 65 

part, of that discipline which God sees to be necessary for 
every believer in Jesus. We ought not to regard the bad 
conduct of those by whom we are surrounded, whether it 
be in personal injuries and wrongs done to ourselves, or 
wickedness in general, as something exceptional to the deal- 
ings of our Heavenly Father, but as a part of them, care- 
fully meted out to us by his unerring hand. David, in 
the seventeenth Psalm, speaking of wicked men in his 
earnest and agonizing supplication, calls them " the wicked 
which is thy sword, men which are thy hand, O Lord." 
This is the right view of these things; for if we can regard 
these troublers as a part of our chastening Father's rod, 
faith can rise in triumph over them, and the chastening will 
result in our profit. By rising to .that view of the matter 
there will be less danger of a struggle of mere human pas- 
sion against human passion. Jesus so viewed the troubling 
of the wicked ; and hence when he was reviled he reviled 
not again, when he suffered he threatened not. 

All this troubling will cease in heaven, and there the 
weary will be at rest. Sweet as these words are, they ex- 
press but negative ideas, and nothing of the glory, the 
beauty, the love, the joy, the fellowship or the unwearying 
activities of heaven. Job was greatly afflicted with the 
troubling of the wicked, who turned cruelly upon him in 
the day of his calamity, as he himself tells us, and he was 
very weary of his complicated and protracted sufferings. 
Hence he looked forward to the grave as to a place of ab- 
solute rest, and to the ever-living but almost unrevealed 
God, with a good but shadowy hope of bliss beyond the 
grave. But now, since Jesus has brought life and immor- 
tality to light, the faith and hope of the weakest believer may 
be, ought to be, and is, greater than was Job's. So, in 
that light let us try to endure the troubling of the wicked, 
and those labors, cares and infirmities which bear heavily 

6* 



66 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

upon us ; for soon, if we faint not, the wicked will cease 
from troubling and the weary be at rest. 



In all the Old Testament history we find no character 
who bears so close a resemblance to Christ as Joseph. As 
Christ was holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sin- 
ners, so in the history of Joseph no fault is recorded. That 
he was a sinner we know, for " there is not a just man 
upon earth who liveth and sinneth not." But in the record 
of his life we find no sin, unless his use of the Egyptian as- 
severation, "by the life of Pharaoh/' may be so re- 
garded. 

Christ on earth took on him the form of a servant ; so 
Joseph, by the act of his cruel brethren, became a servant, 
a slave. 

Like Christ, Joseph was a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with grief. During the twelve or thirteen years spent in 
the service of Potiphar and in the prison, he was sorely 
tempted and tried, but his faith failed not. Like Job, he 
clung to his integrity and to his God. "Though he slay 
me, yet will I trust in him," is the grand utterance of Job's 
abiding faith. How Joseph suffered we may gather from 
his earnest and mournful appeal to Pharaoh's butler, who 
was soon to be restored to favor : ' < Think on me when it 
shall be well with thee, and show kindness, I pray thee, unto 
me, and make mention of me unto Pharaoh, and bring me 
out of this house ; for indeed I was stolen away out of the 
land of the Hebrews ; and here also have I done nothing 
that they should put me into the dungeon.' ' 

His deliverance came at last ; and nothing in the life of 



CHRIST AS SEEN IN JOSEPH. 67 

any other man so much resembles the resurrection of our 
Lord from the tomb, and his ascension to the right hand 
of God as Lord of all, as does the call of Joseph from that 
dungeon, and his almost instantaneous elevation to supreme 
authority. "All power is given unto me in heaven and in 
earth," said Jesus after his resurrection. Joseph's message 
to his father is in his measure very similar : " God hath 
made me lord of all Egypt. Come down unto me, tarry 
not." 

But in Joseph's forgiveness of his brethren, who had so 
grievously sinned against him, we see the image of the 
great Redeemer most signally displayed. By a wise course 
of loving severity he brought them to repentance; and 
then, when he heard the noble and eloquent plea of 
Judah in behalf of Benjamin, offering himself to become a 
bondman that Benjamin might return in safety to his father, 
the great heart of the lord of all Egypt burst forth in reve- 
lation of himself as their long lost and deeply injured 
brother. Then he rushed to their embrace as the father ran 
to meet the returning prodigal. Not a word of reproach was 
uttered. All is loving-kindness and overflowing grace. The 
whole scene is very much in keeping with what was proba- 
bly the first meeting between Jesus and Peter, after the denial, 
after the agony and death of Calvary, the three days' rest in 
the darkness of the tomb, and the resurrection to immortal 
life and illimitable power and glory: "Simon, son of 
Jonas, lovest thou me?" N[ot a word of upbraiding is 
heard in either case. 

Jesus says, "Love your enemies; bless them that curse 
you; do good to them that hate you;" and here we see 
Joseph in Egypt, seventeen hundred years before the divine 
Master went up into that mountain, acting out that great 
precept in all the fullness of its spirit. Thus God gave in 
those far-past times some glimpses of that overflowing good- 



68 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ness which burst upon the world in a flood of light wheii 
the Sun of Righteousness arose. 



That is a noble testimony which Paul bears to the char- 
acter of Moses, that he "esteemed the reproach of Christ 
greater riches than the treasures of Egypt." In this we 
discover the true secret of his subsequent excellence and 
honor; for among great men he stands without a peer. 
All the conquerors, kings and statesmen of antiquity dwindle 
into pigmies when brought into comparison with him ; and 
the Holy Spirit himself testifies that " there arose not a 
prophet since in Israel like unto Moses, whom the Lord 
knew face to face, in all the signs and the wonders which 
the Lord sent him to do in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh, 
and to all his servants, and to all his land, and in all that 
mighty hand, and of all the great terror which Moses 
showed in the sight of all Israel." 

Thrown by the providence of God, in his early childhood, 
into the family of the King of Egypt, and yet not deprived 
of the instruction of a pious mother, he grew up to man- 
hood under the most favorable circumstances for the de- 
velopment of his mental powers ; for Stephen tells us that 
he was "learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and 
was mighty in words and in dfceds." In this condition of 
life he remained until he Was full forty years old. Possess- 
ing native talents, doubtless, of the highest order, and en- 
joying all the advantages that royalty could throw around 
him, his advances in knowledge and administrative skill 
were as far and as high as human erudition in that day was 
able to carry him. We see in this how God educates his 



MOSES IN EXTLE. 69 

servants and fits them for their work. He lets man do 
what man can do, and what man cannot do he does himself. 
Little did the wise men of Egypt dream that their lessons to 
their gifted pupil were fitting him for the performance of 
those terrible acts which struck terror to the hearts of the 
Egyptians, and humbled that proud nation to the dust. And 
as little did Gamaliel think that in the talented and earnest 
Saul of Tarsus he was developing powers to be consecrated 
to the service of Jesus of Nazareth. 

But, surrounded as Moses was with all the wisdom, wealth, 
honor, and splendor of the Egyptian court, the Divine 
Spirit kept alive those holy principles which had been in- 
stilled into his infant mind by Amram and Jochebed, his 
parents. He ceased not to remember that he was an Israel- 
ite, and that he owed homage and obedience to Israel's 
God. 

At that mature age God led him away from the scenes of 
his earlier advantages by a series' of mysterious events. The 
children of Israel were at this time in a state of bondage. 
They were not slaves in the sense in which we understand 
that word ; but, like the serfs of Russia, they were com- 
pelled to labor a part of the time without compensation. 
I believe this labor was performed for the State, and not 
for individual masters, as in our Southern States; nor do I 
believe that the Israelites in Egypt were ever regarded as 
property.* That they labored for the State, and not for 
individual masters, is plainly intimated in Ex. i. 1 1 , where 
it is said, " They built for Pharaoh treasure-cities, Pithom 
and Raamses." 

It was policy, rather than cupidity, that led the king and 
people of Egypt to afflict this portion of their population ; 
for they were there, as they have ever since been, a peculiar 
people. They differed from the Egyptians in language, 

* This was written before the Great Rebellion. 



70 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

manners, customs and religion, and they were living apart, 
refusing to amalgamate or conform, and yet growing prodi- 
giously in numbers and power. This growth alarmed the 
politicians of Egypt, and revelation has given us the result 
of their deliberations upon the subject: — " Come on, said 
they, let us deal wisely with them, lest they multiply, and 
it come to pass that when there falleth out any war they 
join also unto our enemies, and fight against us, and so get 
them out of the land." So they did evil that good might 
come ; or rather they did one evil that another anticipated 
evil might be averted. 

At the age of forty years it came into the heart of Moses 
to visit his oppressed brethren. Great thoughts dilated his 
heart. No doubt he had some vague premonitions of his 
high destiny as the deliverer of Israel, for Stephen plainly 
tells us so. (Acts vii. 25.) Patriotism, indignation, and 
high resolve glowed in his breast ; but no doubt they were 
mingled with baser passions and motives. His first act was 
one of indiscreet vengeance. The next, although right in 
itself, and performed with dignity, resulted in a way so 
mortifying to himself that his ambition was checked and his 
fears aroused. He saw that neither he nor they were yet 
ready to strike for freedom. Having incurred the wrath of 
Pharaoh by slaying the Egyptian, and his authority being 
repudiated by his brethren, he fled. 

We next find him, a poor, weary, dejected fugitive, sit- 
ting by a well in the land of Midian. Thus was Moses led 
by his all-wise Teacher from the schools of Egypt to a 
higher school, in which he was kept another forty years. 
Here it was that he was chaste led and disciplined and made 
meet for the Master's use. Oh, how would that mighty and 
cultivated intellect work during that long period of com- 
parative solitude, guided and illumined by the Holy 
Spirit ! This was his Valley of Humiliation. Here he 



MOSES IN EXILE. 7 1 

learned of Him who was meek and lowly in heart, and be- 
came transformed from the fierce and impetuous hero we 
found him when he slew the Egyptian, to the meekest of 
men. Here, being poor, he filled the place at once of a 
son and a servant to his father-in-law, and kept his flock. 
Here he sustained the tender relations and discharged the 
duties of a husband and a father; and here, doubtless, he 
penned those historical and poetical books and psalms which 
treat of events in which he was not an actor, and of grand 
truths which are eternal and unchangeable in their nature. 
The pen of inspiration is almost silent respecting the per- 
sonal history of Moses during this long period. We have 
a glimpse of him as he enters into his state of exile, and is 
introduced into the family of Jethro, at the age of forty 
years. Then the curtain drops upon him until, at the age 
of four-score, he is summoned to hold converse with Jeho- 
vah at the burning bush. We might indulge in any amount 
of fancy respecting both the inner and the outer life of this 
wonderful man during that long period ; but to do so would 
not be profitable. That it was to him a school of discipline 
we know. That it was full of sore trials we may safely infer 
from their effects; for we see him rash and impetuous when 
he enters it; meek and lowly in heart when he again ap- 
pears. That it was a period of sorrow we may gather 
from the 90th Psalm, where faith struggles with despond- 
ency and the drooping soul labors to strengthen itself in 
God by fervent prayer. He had formerly hoped that it 
had been he who should redeem Israel from bondage ; but 
they were still groaning, and he was fast approaching that 
age when the strength of man is but labor and sorrow. 
"Return!" he exclaims in agony of prayer, "O Lord, 
how long ? and let it repent thee concerning thy servants. 
Oh, satisfy us early with thy mercy, that we may rejoice 
and be glad all our days. Make us glad according to the 



72 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we 
have seen evil. Let thy work appear unto thy servants, 
and thy glory unto their children ; and let the beauty of 
the Lord our God be upon us, and establish thou the work 
of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands, estab- 
lish thou it." Thus did the saint, the brother and the 
patriot plead with God; and in due time the prayer was 
abundantly and gloriously answered. At the period of life 
when other men are borne down with the labor and sor- 
row incident to old age, his youth was renewed like the 
eagle's, and he became the deliverer, leader, and lawgiver 
of his people, and for another forty years performed a 
part higher and more august than was ever before or since 
given to mortal man. 



u He led them forth by the right way, that they might 
go to a city of habitation," says the Psalmist, (107) speak- 
ing of "the redeemed of the Lord." Primarily the refer- 
ence is, doubtless, to the children of Israel in their way 
from Egypt to Canaan. Had human wisdom directed their 
path, they would have gone up to Canaan by the same 
route that the patriarch Jacob and his family went down 
from Canaan to Egypt at the call of his illustrious son, and 
by which the mortal remains of the same patriarch were 
borne back to Canaan by Joseph and his brethren and a 
numerous retinue of mourners. And had the matter been 
left to man's wisdom and guidance, that would have heen 
the "right way;" for it would have been folly and pre- 
sumption in man to have attempted to lead them in the 
way that God led them. By the one route they could have 
reached Canaan in less than forty days; but in the way in 



THE RIGHT WAY. 73 

which it pleased God to lead them, it required forty years 
to reach the promised land. In that way they would have 
had no Red Sea to cross, and no Jordan ; but by the way 
God chose, both had to be passed. 

But it was the better way, the " right way," notwith- 
standing it was the longest, the most difficult and the most 
dangerous. Infinite wisdom was their guide, infinite power 
their defense, and the glory of God and their highest and 
most lasting good the end. "He led them forth by the 
right way, that they might go to a city of habitation ;" and 
in doing so, he wrote, in the simple narrative of their won- 
drous migration, an allegory of the earthly pilgrimage of 
" the redeemed of the Lord " of all nations and all gener- 
ations. It was expedient for them that they should be dis- 
ciplined and proved, and, by a long and painful process, be 
made meet for the inheritance which lay before them. 
By being sorely tried, deeply humbled, severely chastened, 
they were taught to trust in the Lord their God, and to 
learn that without him they could do nothing. 

There was much murmuring in that wilderness. So there 
is among God's people of every age. At nothing was the 
Lord more displeased than at this complaining spirit among 
his people in the wilderness. Is it likely that it is less of- 
fensive in his sight now? The wandering Israelites had 
more to complain of than most of us have ; nor had they 
half the evidences of the faithfulness and loving-kindness 
of the Lord that we enjoy. They had far more reason to 
persuade themselves that he was not leading them in the 
right way than any of us have ; yet were they required to 
believe, to submit, to trust, to obey. They saw the won- 
ders of his power at the Red Sea. They experienced his 
fatherly care in the daily supply of manna. They walked 
by day under the shadow of the cloudy pillar, and by night 
in its light. But what were all these to the wonders and 

7 



74 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the love displayed in the life and death of Jesus ? In view 
of these, shall we dare to murmur at our Father's dealings 
with us, or for a moment entertain feelings of distrust ? 

It is a great attainment in the Christian life to be able to 
thank God for everything he does — not merely in the sub- 
missive spirit of one who yields to a power which he knows 
he cannot resist ; but in the joyful assurance that the dis- 
pensation, whatever it may be, is really for good. It may 
be very grievous and hard to bear. It may cause the suf- 
ferer, like Job, to sit down in sackcloth and ashes. Yet 
the crushed and bleeding heart may utter, as his did, the 
grateful and adoring cry, " Blessed be the name of the 
Lord !" It is possible for the deepest sorrow and the high- 
est joy to co-exist. To the unbeliever this is an inexplica- 
ble paradox ; but Paul has allusion to this condition when 
be bids those to whom he wrote to be joyful in tribulation, 
and in everything to give thanks. 

That is not the gratitude which arises from the thought 
that our condition, bad as it may be, might be worse ; for 
there is no joy in such a thought as that. But it is the real, 
the positive comfort which flows from the full persuasion 
that all is well — that this sorrow, this suffering, be it what 
it may t is a token of the loving kindness of our Heavenly 
Father. 

But suppose the sorrow to be occasioned by our own 
sins ? Will not that reflection render the emotion of joy 
impossible ? By no means. It may cause the sorrow to be 
perpetual ; but that need not prevent the joy of the Lord 
from growing up side by side with it. It is traditionally 
said of Peter, that he never heard a cock crow, after that 
terrible night on which he denied his Lord, without weep- 
ing ; and doubtless Paul often wept when he thought of the 
part which he bore in the murder of Stephen. But Peter 
and Paul were both happy Christians notwithstanding. I 



THE RIGHT WAY. 75 

once knew a naval officer who, prior to his conversion, 
had put his name to an official report to our government, 
bringing unfounded and slanderous charges against a body 
of American foreign missionaries on the Sandwich Is- 
lands. This was many years ago. That much-lamented 
act was a cloud that darkened all his future years ; and 
many hours which might have been spent in peaceful slum- 
bers were passed in tears and groans. Yet I never knew a 
man who had a livelier sense of the love of Christ, or a 
brighter or more joyful hope of heaven, than he. His 
penitence and humility were the most profound I ever 
knew, perhaps morbidly so; but as he sunk, Jesus rose in 
him, and his grace so abounded as to be far more than a 
counterpoise for all his sorrow ; so that a joy which was not 
of this world shone in his countenance. The joy of the 
Lord was his strength, and oh ! how earnestly he worked 
for the salvation of others ! Thus even he was led in the 
"right way to a city of habitation. " 

Christians, whatever be your infirmities, your frailties, 
your losses, bereavements, afflictions, toils and vexations, 
be sure of this, that God is leading you in "'the right 
way" — in the very best way for you to travel to your 
city of habitation. Lean upon his arm- lean heavily, 
but joyfully. Cast all your care upon him, and suffer him 
to make his strength perfect in your weakness. Mourn for 
sin ; but beware how you render the grace of Christ of none 
effect by regarding your guilt as still adhering to you. Had 
Peter done so, it would have been impossible for him to 
have stood before his risen Lord and say, " Lord, thou 
knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee." The re- 
membrance of our sins and short-comings ought to humble 
us; but when it causes us to cast away our confidence, 
when it obscures our hope, and extinguishes our joy, then 
it partakes more of the nature of remorse than of penitence, 



76 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

more of the legal spirit than of faith. It only proves that 
the man who loses his hope at the remembrance of his sins, 
would, were it not for those sins, be trusting in his own 
righteousness. Peter had a good deal of this self-trusting 
spirit, which is only another form of self-righteousness ; but 
his shameful conduct on the night his Master was betrayed 
cured him of that. He, too, was led in " the right way" 
to heaven. 

Oh! for an abiding persuasion that whatever be the way, 
whether light or dark, joyous or grievous, long or short, 
rough or smooth, still it is "the right way " for us. What- 
ever may be the best way for others, let us be sure of this, 
that what God appoints for us is the very best that he, in all 
the fullness of his love and his resources, can assign to us. 
We may feel sometimes as if we were uncared for, and 
tossed as a waif upon creation. But it is not so, for it is 
written, " He careth for you." Of the believer, God him- 
self declares, " I will be with him in trouble.'' And one 
believer wrote what all others ought to echo — "Thou wilt 
guide me by thy counsel, and afterwards receive me to 
glory." How happy would our world be, could every 
soul appropriate these words of faith, and joy, and tri- 
umph ! 



When Isaac discovered his father's object in taking him 
to the place of sacrifice, and that he was to be laid a bleed- 
ing victim on the burning altar, doubtless a prayer equiva- 
lent to that uttered by Jesus in Gethsemane burst from his 
agonized soul — " O my father, if it be possible, let this cup 
pass from me !" Abraham could not grant the petition, 
for One greater than he had imperatively demanded the 



THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 77 

sacrifice. But at the right moment that greater One did 
interpose and save him. The cup did pass from Isaac's 
lips i for his death would have been bootless. No sins 
could have been washed away in his blood. Still that 
record of the faithful patriarch, who, with uplifted arm 
was about to smite to death his beloved son in whom he 
was well pleased, stands as a great prophecy of what did 
take place many centuries afterwards, possibly on the same 
spot, when a greater Father smote to death a still more be- 
loved Son — a Son whose life was given as a ransom for 
many, whose blood cleanseth from all sin, whose death is 
life to the world. When that Father grasped his sword and 
bade it smite the Shepherd, there was no voice in heaven or 
on earth potential enough to forbid th'e blow. It was not 
possible that the cup could pass from that victim. 

" God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, 
but have everlasting life." Abraham so loved God, that he 
withheld not his only and well-beloved son from him. The 
father of the faithful, therefore, stands as a type of the 
Eternal Father in this greatest of all transactions. Both 
went as far as the case demanded. Isaac's blood was not 
shed, for it could have wrought no redemption. No river 
of life could have flowed from that altar, therefore his days 
were prolonged on earth, a link in that patriarchal chain 
through which all the families of the earth were to be 
blessed. God saved Isaac ; Jesus he could not save, with- 
out a violation of all his promises to the fathers, and an 
abandonment of his purposes of mercy to our fallen race. 

Think what it cost Abraham to give his only son a bloody 
offering to God; and then think — but with the profoundest 
reverence — what it cost our Heavenly Father to give his 
only begotten Son a bloody sacrifice for us. Let us not as- 
sert, as some presumptuously do, that Divinity cannot 

7* 



78 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

suffer; for we know not the capabilities of the Divine 
nature. Suffering is the consequence of sin, it is true; but 
beings perfectly pure may be involved in that suffering. 
Can we imagine, for example, that the angel who was sent 
to strengthen the agonized Redeemer in the garden, ex- 
perienced no sympathetic sorrow ? We know not now, but 
we shall know hereafter, as far as our finite natures are capa- 
ble of comprehending, what it cost the Father to give his 
only begotten Son for our redemption. 

In the brief narratives given by the evangelists of the 
crucifixion, the incidents, so far as the eye and the ear could 
observe them, are related in the simplest language ; but what 
lay beyond this purview is only to be gathered from the ut- 
terances of the great Sufferer himself, and from the tremen- 
dous phenomena which occurred simultaneously. In the 
bitter and spiteful utterances of the chief priests, scribes, 
elders and rabble, we see an unexampled outbreak of human 
depravity, and an awful commentary upon the words of 
Jesus, uttered only a few hours before, " This is your hour 
and the powers of darkness. ■' 

As the tragedy deepened, the confession and salvation of 
one of the malefactors who suffered with Jesus is related as 
a beautiful and wondrous episode. Out of the deep dark- 
ness, and from the midst of those blasphemous surround- 
ings, the sweet glories of Him who is mighty to save, and 
who can save to the uttermost, bursts forth in that hope-in- 
spiring incident. 

But now let us tread softly. Let us feel as Moses felt as 
he approached the Burning Bush, that the ground on which 
we tread is holy. Up to this time a scoffing, roaring, blas- 
pheming crowd, together with the invisible powers of dark- 
ness, occupied the scene. Upon these the sun could shine 
as it shines upon all. But no sooner is the dying thief 
snatched as a brand from the burning, than it is added : 



THE GREAT SACRIFICE. 79 

" From the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land 
unto the ninth hour." One agonizing cry is all we have to 
indicate to us what transpired during those awful hours of 
darkness. Did that dreadful sword which Jehovah, by the 
mouth of the prophet, called upon to awake against " the 
Man who is my Fellow," darken the heavens and cause the 
rocks to tremble even to rending ! Surely it was during 
those hours of which we have hardly any report that the 
fierce conflict of the Son of God took place, and not while 
wicked and cruel men were mocking, and devils doing their 
utmost. That fearful cry, "Eloi, e/oi\ lama sabacthani?" 
tells us who was contending with him then. The preter- 
natural darkness had awed the noisy multitude to silence. 
Spirits of evil had probably been driven to their own place, 
leaving the Father and Son alone upon the mount, as Abra- 
ham and Isaac were alone in their dreadful hour of trial. 

It will be the work of the redeemed throughout eternity 
to fathom the depths of that infinite conflict, and of that 
love which led both the parties to it. In this life we can 
only look up to that height as we look at the far off stars, 
and down into that measureless depth, as we do into the 
period before the earth was. Still enough has been told us 
— as much as we are able to comprehend. Those three 
dark hours must remain dark to mortals. But be patient, 
Christian, and walk by faith, and soon angels will tell you, 
and Jesus himself will tell you, what it cost him to redeem 
you and lift you up to his throne. 

It is evident that Jesus did not die, as mortals die, of the 
exhaustion of the powers ot nature. His work was done. 
With a loud voice — not the agonizing cry of an expiring 
mortal, but the shout of a conqueror — he cried, " It is fin- 
ished," and then commending his spirit to the hands of his 
Father, he bowed his head and yielded up the ghost. He 
had said, " I have power to lay down my life, and I have 



80 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

power to take it again;" and in his death, and in his resur- 
rection, we see a verification of his words. " Socrates 
died like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ like a God." 



" Come near to me, I pray you," said Joseph to his 
awe-stricken brethren, just after he had told them who he 
was. " Handle me and see," said Jesus, after his resurrec- 
tion, to his still more awe-stricken disciples, whose super- 
stitious fears suggested the idea of a spirit, a ghost, an 
apparition. It is the law of our being that whatsoever we 
would understand clearly we must examine closely, even 
familiarly ; and that whatever we keep at a distance is in- 
vested with a greater or less degree of vagueness and mys- 
tery. Before we can love any object we must first become 
intimate with it. We must come near to it, and, if it may 
be so, handle it. 

Well, if we may become familiar even with God himself, 
— if the disciples might even handle their risen Lord, — 
surely we may examine closely the great men whose living 
portraits are embodied in the sacred volume. They are 
there for that purpose. They are mirrors in which we may 
see ourselves ; and their experience ought to be our guide. 
It is a great and hurtful mistake to suppose that Abraham, 
and Jacob, and Joseph, and Moses, and Samuel, and David, 
and the prophets, were invested with sanctity unattainable 
in the present day. It is far better to regard them as our 
fellow-servants, more highly favored than ourselves in some 
respects, and less so in others. It is the vague and erro- 
neous notion of the unapproachable greatness and holiness 
of these Bible worthies that keeps the great body of God's 



SOLOMON. 8l 

modern people so unfamiliar with them, and chills that 
brotherly affection which ought to be felt for them. We 
hold them near enough to be admired, but too far off to be 
loved. 

These general remarks are applicable to all the great and 
good characters set forth in the inspired volume. But there 
is one whose magnificent portrait flits before us in a gor- 
geous but ever-varying panorama, — sometimes enshrined at 
once in earthly glory and in the beauty of holiness, and 
again we see him marred and battered, and driven before a 
whirlwind of temptation, but still great, — " wandering, but 
not lost." 

The first notable incident that we read of Solomon, 
after he ascended the throne of his father David, is his 
humble prayer for wisdom. The prayer itself is evidence 
of wisdom far beyond that of ordinary men. The root of 
the matter was in him, and from that sprung his extraor- 
dinary clearness and quickness of perception of all manner 
of truths. Very soon afterwards, in the strange dispute 
between the two mothers, this wisdom, or, rather, this 
sagacity, was practically displayed in the judgment which 
he gave. The assertions of one woman were pointedly con- 
tradicted by those of the other. No other human being 
witnessed the transaction ; so no witness could be called to 
settle the dispute. The king saw and acknowledged the 
utter impossibility of deciding the case by any ordinary 
procedure of law and evidence ; so he instantly determined, 
by a test of terrible severity, to appeal for the truth to the 
irrepressible principle of maternal love. " Bring me a 
sword,' ' said the royal judge. " Divide the living child in 
two, and give half to the one and half to the other." This 
was too much for the real mother, as Solomon knew that it 
would be. " O my Lord, give her the living child, and in 
no wise slay it," said she ; but the other coldly and unfeel- 



82 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ingly agreed to the proposal. The case was now clear 
enough, and the living child was restored to its true mother. 

In this incident we have an example of the quick, pene- 
trating, far-reaching mind of Solomon, and of the almost 
unerring sagacity and readiness with which he could find 
and apply means to accomplish his ends. This affair not 
only proved that he had a deep insight into the human 
heart, but it also shows that he had extraordinary inventive 
genius. Any man could understand that both these women 
knew the truth, and that one of them told the truth ; but 
the king silenced both the disputants, and made Nature, 
which cannot lie, speak. Doubtless this was the kind of 
wisdom for which Solomon prayed ; and, in view of the 
responsibilities of the high office to which he had been 
called, nothing could be more valuable or desirable. 

To a quick, penetrating judgment, Solomon added a 
searching scrutiny into the nature of all things, both 
moral and physical, that could be known. As a moralist, 
we have in the Cook of Proverbs a world of practical 
wisdom. As a naturalist, it is said that he studied the 
nature of every thing, from the cedars of Lebanon to the 
hyssop that springeth out of the wall. As a king or magis- 
trate he surpassed all other men, so that the fame of his 
administration spread over the then known world, and the 
rulers of all nations sought his friendship and counsel. 

But to this wonderful mental endowment it pleased God 
to add other gifts almost beyond measure, — wealth, pros- 
perity, honor, influence. In his person and in his outward 
estate, therefore, Solomon had all that the largest ambition 
could desire of earthly good. As it was given to Job to prove 
experimentally the last degree of earthly adversity, so was 
it given to Solomon to exhibit to us a living examp'e 
of the opposite condition. It is in tins point of view that 
the study of his life becomes instructive and profitable. 



SOLOMON. 83 

He was not satisfied with the mere abstract knowledge of 
anything. He must have experience ; therefore he appears 
to have tested the value of every thing by actual trial. 
Hence he says, "Lo, I am come to great estate, and have 
gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before 
me in Jerusalem ; yea, my heart had great experience 01 
wisdom and knowledge; and I gave my heart to know 
wisdom , and to know madness and folly " And again: 
" I sought in mine heart to give myself unto wine, yet ac- 
quainting mine heart with wisdom; and to lay hold on folly, 
till I might see what was that good for the sons of men 
which they should do under the heaven all the days of 
their life." Strange and perilous experiment ! Plunge into 
folly, and even inebriation, so that by the experimental 
test he might know their value, and thus become more 
wise, and be enabled to see what was good for the sons of 
men. 

Of intoxicating drink he has given a faithful and solemn 
report in Pro v. xxiii. "Who hath woe? Who hath sor- 
row? Who hath contentions? Who hath babbling? Who 
hath wounds without cause ? Who hath redness of eyes ? 
They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek 
mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, 
when it giveth his color in the cup, when it moveth itself 
aright. At last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like 
an adder. Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and 
thine heart shall utter perverse things. Yea, thou shalt be 
as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea, or as he that 
lieth upon the top of a mast. They have stricken me, 
shalt thou say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and 
I felt it not. When shall I awake? I will seek it yet again !" 
Who but an experienced inebriate could give so vivid a 
picture of the wine itself, of the revolting concomitants of 
drunkenness, of the confusion of brain and the irregular pas- 



84 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

sions which follow, and of the incoherent and passionate 
expressions of returning reason under the lash of an out- 
raged conscience ? Thus did Solomon give himself unto 
wine that he might acquaint his heart with wisdom. We 
may not say that he did well in so doing ; but we may say 
that it was well for the sons of men that he did. If we may 
not thank Solomon for the solemn lesson, we may thank 
God. 

Elegant and gorgeous voluptuousness was indulged in by 
this extraordinary man to an extent beyond the power of 
any to rival. In this lay his most dangerous snare, his 
greatest error, his darkest sin. This, more than anything 
else, casts a deep and lasting stain upon his character. 
Strong as he was, he did not come out of that fire unin- 
jured ; for, like Samson in the lap of Delilah, he was shorn 
of his glory and strength ; and when he tried to shake 
himself he found that he had become weak and like any 
other man. His alliance with idolatrous women led him to 
patronize and even to practice idolatry ; and thus he be- 
came a snare to his own people, and greatly offended the 
God of his fathers. To him wine, and music, and every 
other species of pleasure, were like the cords on the arms 
of the strong man. He broke them as though they had 
been threads touched by fire ; but the ensnaring influence 
of women was too strong even for him. See Proverbs v., 
vi., vii. 

Solomon took great delight in making improvements of 
every kind. Of these he tells us in the second chapter of 
Ecclesiastes ; and having fine taste and skill, together with 
almost unlimited wealth, no man can ever hope to rival 
him in this department of laudable and enlightened pleasure. 
He says, " I was great, and increased more than all that 
were before me in Jerusalem ; also my wisdom remained 
with me ; and whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from 



SOLOMON. 85 

them ; I withheld not my heart from any joy ; for my heart 
rejoiced in all my labor ; and this was my portion of all my 
labor." For seven years Solomon was employed, with all 
his power and skill and forces, in building the Temple; but, 
that done, he seems to have turned his attention to other 
works. He built Tadmor in the desert, believed to be 
the same that is now called Palmyra, the splendid ruins of 
which are the admiration of travelers to this day; and the 
pools of water of which he speaks are yet existing in good 
preservation a few miles from Jerusalem. 

And what was the result of all this power, and wealth, 
and well-directed industry? Let Solomon himself answer. 
"Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, 
and on the labor that I had labored to do ; and behold, all 
was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit 
under the sun." What a report from a man who had all 
that heart could wish of this world's honor, power, wealth, 
and pleasure ! These are not the words of some sour ascetic, 
scowling from his narrow cell upon a busy, bustling world, 
but of a man who had drunk freely from every fountain of 
earthly joy, — a man who sought pleasure and enjoyment 
with all his heart, and found them in measure far beyond 
what any other man need hope for. They are the words 
of an honest, earnest, and wise man, — a man guided in all 
his researches after experimental wisdom by the Spirit of 
God. He, doubtless, often forgot, in the impetuous pursuit 
of ambition and pleasure, the object of his perilous wander- 
ings; but his Guide did not. The rein was freely given to 
his giant propensities, — his thirst for knowledge, his kingly 
ambition, his fine tastes, his love of pleasure, and even the 
indulgence of his sensual appetites. They led him to the 
achievement of all that could be done or enjoyed by man. 
And what did it profit ? What did it amount to ? Vanity 
and vexation of spirit, and no profit. And yet these are 

8 



86 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the things for which men are starving their souls, and even 
bartering their salvation. 

If we would understand the character of Solomon aright, 
we must regard him as an explorer, a discoverer, in the 
great moral world, extending from the portals of heaven to 
the purlieus of the bottomless pit; for he says himself, 
" I gave myself to know wisdom and to know madness and 
folly, " — not merely to know these things abstractly, but ex- 
perimentally. God, in his providence, furnished him with 
the means, and gave him strength sufficient for the fearful 
tour, and finally brought him back an humbler, a wiser, and 
a better man, and has given to us, in the sententious lan- 
guage of his erratic servant, the rich stores of wisdom which 
he brought back when he returned from his wanderings. 

Solomon's mission was to shed light upon this world, its 
interests, its profits and its pleasures, and to show us what 
is valuable and worth seeking, and what is vain, deceptive, 
and unworthy of pursuit, and thus lead our feet into the 
paths of true wisdom. The Book of Proverbs is an ex- 
haustless treasury of practical wisdom ; the Book of Eccle- 
siastes is a continuation of the same sententious expositions 
of the truth, blended with the strange and varied personal 
experience of the author. Oh, how earnestly he labors to 
convince the sons of men, for whose good he tried every 
thing and trod paths of sin and folly from which any other 
man would have been swept to perdition, of the emptiness, 
worthlessness, and vanity of the things which the great 
majority of men esteem so highly and pursue so eagerly. 
"Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; 
all is vanity." 

How solemn and impressive is his conclusion, the sum 
total of all his wisdom and experience ! "Let us hear 
(says he) the conclusion of the whole matter : Fear God and 
keep his commandments ; for this is the whole of 



ELISHA, NAAMAN AND GEHAZI. 87 

man." In our version the last clause reads, the " whole 
duty of man;" but the word is supplied, and weakens the 
force of the sentence. It is elliptical, and admits of being 
filled up with many words. It may stand as it is, " the 
whole duty of man ;" or we may paraphrase it in the words 
of the Catechism, "the chief end of man;" but to main- 
tain the full energy of Solomon's words, we must say ' ' the 
whole of man." Like Paul, Solomon appears at last to 
have cast every thing out of his heart but the. fear of God 
and the spirit of obedience. In him sin abounded, it is 
true; but we have good reason to believe that grace still more 
abounded. The very fact that he found the joys of life un- 
satisfying; that he did not set his heart upon riches ; and that 
he found nothing but vanity and vexation of spirit in his most 
splendid achievements, is satisfactory proof that he never 
lost his relish for the Chief Good ; and that, returning from 
his wanderings like Noah's dove, he found rest in the Ark, 
"the bosom of his Father and his God." 



The prophet Elisha was living in poverty and neglect, 
but still active and zealous, in Jericho. Every opportunity 
to do good and to impart instruction was joyfully improved 
by him. Like Him of whom he was a type, it was his 
meat and drink to do the will of Him who sent him. It 
was at this time that Naaman the Syrian was informed by a 
captive Israelitish maid that there was a prophet in Israel 
who could recover him of the leprosy under which he was 
sinking to a loathsome and horrible death. Naaman came, 
as the world always comes, with pomp and parade, and 
with his hands filled with costly gifts. He first applied to the 
King of Israel ; but he could do nothing. " Let him come 



88 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

to me," said the prophet: so the afflicted but proud Syrian 
sought the humble dwelling of the prophet, and acted as if 
he intended rather to order and pay for his miraculous ser- 
vices than to solicit them as a humble supplicant. The 
prophet sent a message to him directing him what to do,— 
simply to wash in Jordan; but deigned not, in his present 
state of feeling, to show him the light of his countenance. 
How similar is this to the dealings of the Saviour with the 
alarmed but unsubdued sinner ! 

The whole proceeding is distasteful to the proud heart of 
the Syrian general. The prophet disregards his rank and 
dignity, and the means prescribed are altogether too simple, 
and therefore too humiliating. Naaman had made up his 
mind that either he or the prophet, or both, must do some 
great thing ; but in this he only acted as the whole world 
has acted since the creation. The apostle says the Cross 
of Christ is to the Jews a stumbling-block and to the 
Greeks foolishness ; so Elisha's washing in Jordan was to 
Naaman foolishness, and likely to have proved a stumbling- 
block over which he had stumbled into destruction. Finally, 
however, through the persuasion of his servants, and from 
a sense of his hopeless condition, his proud heart gave way, 
and, like a humble seeker of salvation, he went down 
alone into Jordan, and there found, to his great joy, that 
God did indeed do a great thing for him. One minute ago 
he was an ulcerous leper, loathsome even to himself; now 
he is whole, strong, pure and beautiful, clothed with the 
fair flesh of a little child, and, better still, with the spirit of 
a little child. Behold here the type of a new creature in 
Christ Jesus. Then look again, and you will see a type of 
the primitive Church. 

Naaman acknowledges and blesses the God of Israel, -and 
in the fullness of his heart desires to make the prophet 
rich, by bestowing upon him a large sum of money and 



ELISHA, NAAMAN AND GEHAZI. 89 

other costly gifts. If ever a man might have properly re- 
ceived a present from another, this seemed to be the occasion. 
The work was done. The gift of Naaman was not at all in 
the nature of a quid pro quo, but purely an offering of 
gratitude. Moreover, Elisha had at this time under his care 
and tuition more than a hundred young men, sons of the 
prophets, to whom this money would have been, according 
to modern ideas, a most happy relief; for they were very 
poor, as we learn from the affair of the ' ' death in the pot, ' ' 
and from the distress which one of them evinced at having 
dropped a borrowed axe into water so deep that he could 
not reach it, and to recover which Elisha worked a miracle 
by causing it to swim. For these and many other reasons 
we should suppose that the prophet might very properly 
have taken the money. But Infinite Wisdom forbade ; and 
that was enough for him, and let it be enough for us. 

Thus far the narrative is delightful to contemplate. 
Naaman is not only healed,- but he seems to have become 
a simple-hearted, humble, and grateful believer, — a sinner 
saved by grace ; for with all his power and wealth, he was 
saved, healed, and redeemed without money and without 
price. All the glory was God's, all the priceless benefits 
were his. How inconceivably glorious must the Lord God 
of Elisha and of Israel have appeared in the eyes of this 
newly-awakened heathen when he saw that his servant the 
prophet cared not for the wealth of this world, although 
surrounded with every aspect of outward poverty ! So did 
the Church appear in the eyes of the heathen world in the 
days of the apostles ; and hence the power which accom- 
panied the preaching of the word. There was no attempt 
then to serve both God and Mammon upon the same altar. 

But now the scene changes to one extremely* painful. 
Gehazi, the servant of Elisha, was present at the closing 
interview between his master and the Syrian general ; and 

8* 



90 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

in his eyes the refusal of his master to receive the proffered 
present was very foolish. However superior his master 
might be to him in some things, he had no doubt of his 
own superior sagacity in respect to the affairs of this world 
and the value of money. Gehazi was a keen, penetrating, 
forward youth. When his master was desirous of confer- 
ring some favor upon the hospitable Shunammite, he was 
not long in suggesting what would likely be the most grate- 
ful benefit she could receive ; and the prophet acted upon 
his suggestion. Puffed up with the privileges of his situa- 
tion and the kindness and confidence of his master, doubt- 
less he felt himself to be almost if not altogether a prophet 
himself; but in his own eyes shrewder and wiser than Eli- 
sha; for he thus soliloquizes: " Behold, my master hath 
spared Naaman, this Syrian, in not receiving at his hands 
that which he brought ; but, as the Lord liveth, I will 
run after him and take somewhat of him. ,, Telling Naaman 
a gross falsehood about two sons of the prophet, the latter 
gladly bestowed upon him more than he asked. Then, 
having concealed his treasure, he returned to his master as 
if nothing had happened. Poor, deceived Naaman ! He 
gave it freely, gratefully, gladly. His heart was oppressed 
with the weight of the free grace of which he had just been 
the recipient. His pride, utterly abased, struggled with the 
load. He wanted to do something, to make some return ; 
and, having given two talents of silver (about 3,200 dol- 
lars in our money) and two rich changes of raiment, his 
reviving pride of heart would feel much relieved. Oh, how 
was the gracious work of God in his heart marred by this 
unhappy outbreak of covetousness on the part of Gehazi ! 
We here lose sight of Naaman. Whether he continued 
to be a true and humble worshiper of Israel's God in the 
court of a heathen prince, God only knows. One thing 
we do know, that He who, as we trust, began a good work 



ELISHA, NAAMAN AND GEHAZI. 9 1 

in the man's heart, was able to carry it on. But, if the good 
impressions he received were ever effaced, the guilt lies 
heavily upon the soul of Gehazi. 

Although it has pleased God to draw a veil over the 
subsequent character and fate of Naaman, we are not left 
in the dark respecting .that of Gehazi. We need not re- 
hearse the narrative of the final interview between Eli- 
sha and his servant ; but the awful sentence pronounced 
upon the latter on that occasion may well cause our ears to 
tingle and our hearts to tremble, lest we fall, in a spiritual 
sense, under the same condemnation. " The leprosy of 
Naaman shall cleave unto thee and unto thy seed forever." 

Who does not see bodied forth, as in the living epistles 
of God, the Saviour in Elisha, a lost world in Naaman, 
and a corrupt and mercenary Church in Gehazi? Ages 
after the last-named individual was gathered to his fathers, 
— after the Great Archetype had appeared and toiled and 
suffered for the redemption of a lost world, — after thou- 
sands had washed in the fountain which he opened for sin 
and for uncleanness, and had become new creatures, as 
Naaman had done, — men professing to be the servants of 
the Great Prophet began to act the part of Gehazi, and 
continued to do so from little to more, from bad to worse, 
until the greed of gain and the device of schemes to ob- 
tain it had thrust out of the Church every pure and healthy 
element, and converted it into a curse rather than a blessing 
to the world. Purgatory, Auricular Confession, Masses, 
indulgences, and many other such inventions, attest the 
ingenuity with which schemes were framed to extort money 
from a world suffering under the leprosy of sin. Gehazi 
put in a false but plausible plea, and' he put it forth in the 
name of his master. So does the Church of Rome. Naaman 
was deceived by Gehazi. In like manner the nations of the 
earth have been for ages deceived by that Church. Gehazi 



92 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

got Naaman's money, as Rome has got the world's money. 
But Gehazi inherited with it Naaman's leprosy. And what 
has Rome inherited ? 

But let us tread softly. Rome stands before us as the 
woman taken in adultery stood before the Jews of old. We 
know that she is guilty, for she has been taken in the very 
act. But are we in a condition to cast a stone at her ? Are 
we Protestants entirely clear of the sin of Gehazi? Is he 
not in some sense our representative too, and does not some 
trace of the leprosy of Naaman for this cause cleave unto us? 

Naaman came prepared to pay for his cure. He expected, 
nay, desired, to do so. The prophet had severely denied 
himself in order to give him a practical and striking proof 
that salvation and the blessing of God are not to be pur- 
chased with money ; that all who come to Him must come 
as beggars, however rich they may be in this world's goods. 
Now, they know very little of the human heart who cannot 
understand that Naaman's sense of obligation would be 
greatly abated, and his self-complacency very materially 
restored, after his interview with Gehazi. As we are all 
men of like passions with Naaman, we are liable to be 
similarly affected when we reflect upon our own bounty 
contributed to the " support of the gospel.' ' God wanted 
Naaman's heart, not his money ; but Gehazi, acting upon 
the promptings of worldly wisdom, wanted his money; and 
it is possible that, in taking it, he robbed the Saviour of 
Naaman's heart and of the glory of his salvation. 



THE POT OF OIL. 93 



The Scriptures represent the goodness of God as an in- 
exhaustible fountain, a boundless treasury, incapable of 
exhaustion, or even of diminution. "Out of his fullness 
have all we received." 

Where, then, are we straitened ? Certainly not in the 
fountain at which we draw, seeing that it is infinite in its 
fullness ; but in ourselves, in our faith, in our expectations. 
Our faith or expectation may be justly compared to a ves- 
sel which we bring to a fountain. If it be very small, we 
can only carry away with us a very small supply. No matter 
how abundant the water in the well may be, it cannot do 
more than fill our vessel. 

The centurion who applied to the Saviour to heal his 
servant came with almost unbounded faith and expectation. 
" Speak the word, and my servant shall live !" he exclaimd; 
and his draft, large as it was, was munificently honored. His 
vessel was filled to the brim. Jesus himself marvelled at 
him, and, turning to those about him, declared that he had 
not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. He then re- 
sponded to the anxious applicant, "As thou hast believed, 
so be it done unto thee. 11 He had come with large expecta- 
tions, but they were fully met. His vessel was a capacious 
one, yet it was filled to overflowing. Let us ever bear 
in mind that what Jesus said to the centurion he says to all. 
That scripture is of no private interpretation. 

A striking instance of this rule of administration in the 
kingdom of grace is afforded in the case of the widow's pot 
of oil, as related in the first seven verses of the 2d chapter 
of 2d Kings. 

The husband and father, who had been a good man — 
one who feared the Lord and was enrolled among the sons 



94 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

of the prophets — died. He died poor; out worse than that, 
he died in debt. His estate consisted of two sons, and 
nothing more, so far as the history informs us. But two 
sons would be a strange entry among a deceased man's 
assets in our day; so it requires a moment's glance at the 
law of Moses and the practice in Israel. See Exodus xxi. 2 
for the law, and Nehemiah v. 1-13 for the practice. Under 
the first, perhaps, a man's children might be sold to serve 
seven years in payment of a debt due by him in his life- 
time ; but under the second such a thing would have met 
with a most emphatic condemnation. 

But at the time this poor woman lived in Israel, Baal was 
more worshiped than the God of Israel; and it is not 
likely that the merciful limitations and mitigations of servi- 
tude laid down in the divine law were very strictly observed. 
Be this as it may, the creditor seized, or was about to seize, 
the two sons of this afflicted woman, in order to sell them 
into slavery or servitude, or to keep them as bondmen, in 
satisfaction of the debt. It was very hard; but as the 
creditor had law on his side, doubtless he thought it just and 
perfectly fair. The anguish and tears of the widow and 
fatherless were nothing to him. All he wanted was his legal 
right. 

What could she do ? She had no means of paying the 
debt, nor friends able to pay it for her. In her deep distress 
she doubtless prayed earnestly to her own and her husband's 
God, and he heard her and directed her what to do. She ap- 
plied to Elisha. After hearing her complaint, he inquired 
of her what she had in her house. " Thine handmaid hath 
not anything in the house save a pot of oil," she replied* 
"Go," said the prophet, "borrow vessels abroad of all 
thy neighbors, even empty vessels; borrow not a few. And 
when thou art come in thou shalt shut the door upon thee 
and upon thy sons, and shalt pour out into all those vessels, 
and thou shalt set aside that which is full." 



THE POT OF OIL. 95 

What a strange command ! Here was exercise for faith. 
What ! fill large vessels out of that little pot ? Even so; 
for the prophet of the Lord God of Israel had said it. 
" Borrow not a few " would ring in her ears and help her 
to enlarge her expectations. She is about to draw from an 
exhaustless fountain, and the only limit to her supply is her 
own faith or her ability to procure vessels. 

She has ceased to collect vessels. She has either got all 
that she could procure, or as many as she could hope to fill, 
we do not know which. She has shut the door, and the 
wondrous work begins. With a hand trembling with emo- 
tion she grasps the little pot of oil and pours out. The oil 
flows in a strong and unabating stream, and vessel after 
vessel is filled and set aside. In strong faith and joyful exul- 
tation she proceeds with her miraculous work, and " Bring 
me yet a vessel!" breaks with stronger and stronger em- 
phasis from her lips. At length her son replies, to her 
oft-repeated command, " There is not a vessel more." 
Then, and not till then, the oil stayed. She sold her oil, 
paid the debt, saved her children from bondage, and had 
a surplus left for her ordinary support. 

Here is a beautiful practical example of strong faith and 
large expectation to encourage us when we come to the 
Fountain of every blessing. The widow did not collect 
too many vessels, for they were all filled; and had she pro- 
cured ten times as many the result would have been the 
same. In prayer we are not straitened in God, but only 
in ourselves ; and when we approach into Kis presence who 
"giveth liberally and upbraideth not," but who is pleased 
and honored in proportion to the largeness of our drafts 
upon him, it would be well to call to mind the abrupt and 
emphatic command of the prophet: "Borrow empty ves- 
sels; borrow not a few." 



g6 gatherings in beulah. 

The advent of Christ is the great event in the annals of 
time. It is not one event among many, but the centre to 
which all other events are subsidiary, and for which the race 
of man exists. 

He came, heralded by a train of prophets reaching from 
Enoch, before the flood, to the Baptist, who pointed out 
the humble Galilean to the people of Israel as " the Lamb 
of God." Their lofty strains had awakened in the breasts 
of the people of that generation a confident expectation 
that He of whom Moses and the prophets did write would 
shortly appear ; but when he did come they knew him not. 
They looked for a mighty temporal Prince, a Deliverer of 
Israel, a Restorer of its kingdom. Their views were carnal, 
earthly, and contracted. Indeed it was impossible for them 
to conceive of such a kingdom as he did establish. Their 
preconceptions were altogether natural ; but their fault lay 
in their obstinate adherence to their erroneous preconcep- 
tions after Jesus of Nazareth had, by mighty signs and won- 
ders, attested his claim to be that great One whose coming 
they expected and longed for. But because he did not ap- 
pear in the manner they had expected, they rejected him, 
shutting their eyes against the clearest light of truth and 
evidence. 

The Son of God, who has control of all things in heaven 
and in earth, had it in his power to take any condition in 
life that he chose. He could have been rich. He could 
have clothed himself with outward majesty transcending 
that of the mightiest monarchs. He could have brought 
all mankind to his feet as vassals and servants, and laid the 
nations under tribute ; and, had he done so, the precon- 
ceptions of the Jews would have been met. He had it in 



MISSION AND POVERTY OF CHRIST. 97 

his power to invest himself with the terrors of God, as 
Moses and Elijah were invested ; but that would not have 
comported with the nature of his mission. Moses was a 
representative of the sovereignty and authority of the 
Almighty; Eljah, of his severity ; for in him it was pro- 
claimed, not in words, but in deeds, that "our God is a 
consuming fire." But Jesus was the embodiment of his love. 
He came, not to destroy men's lives, but to save them. 
He came to seek and to save the lost ; to heal the broken- 
hearted ; to bear the sins of many ; and to bring in an 
everlasting righteousness. 

He had power to take any condition in life that he 
chose ; and, being guided by unerring wisdom, his choice 
would necessarily be a good one. He was born of a poor 
woman, became a member of an obscure family, for whose 
maintenance, together with his own, he labored with his 
hands until he was about thirty years of age. So com- 
pletely did he veil his divinity that he was only known as 
the carpenter's son, and as a carpenter himself. 

The signs and wonders which had been shown at his 
birth seem to have been forgotten. Good old Simeon, and 
Anna the prophetess, and Zacharias the priest, are dead. 
The shepherds who heard the angels sing are perhaps dead 
or scattered. But they might have adopted the language of 
the prophet and exclaimed, "Who hath believed our re- 
port ?" The wise men had long since gone back to their 
homes in the East, there to meditate upon the mysterious 
nature of the Star and the Babe of Bethlehem, until they 
should be called up higher, where, with still more exceed- 
ing joy, they should gaze upon, and contemplate, and 
adore the glory and beauty of the Star of Jacob. 

But the whole nation of Israel lay in profound ignorance 
of the fact that He for whose coming they had so long 
waited was even then among them. The wonders which 

9 



gS GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

attended his birth, the words of the aged Simeon, the pre- 
dictions of Anna, the slaughter of the children, — all, all 
had passed out of the popular mind ; and thus the Shiloh 
of Jacob, the Prophet of Moses, the Star of Balaam, 
the Man of Sorrows of Isaiah, the Messiah of Daniel, the 
Branch of Zechariah, the Sun of Righteousness of Malachi, 
lay hidden from the gaze of the world in the humble 
mechanic of Nazareth. Yet he did not hide his light ; for, 
although we have an account of but one single incident in 
his life from infancy to mature manhood, — the interview, at 
the age of twelve years, with the doctors in the temple, — 
that is enough to show us that he was full of grace and 
truth, and excellent in wisdom and understanding, during 
all the years of his obscurity, poverty, and toil. 

Such, then, was the condition in life freely chosen, of 
the Son of God ; and if it was good for him, O poor toil- 
ing Christian, is it not good for you? Indigent as you may 
be, you have more of this world's goods than he had. You 
have a place to lay your head; he had not during the years 
of his public ministry. You have a home, be it ever so 
humble ; he had none. In poverty, as in everything else, 
he had the pre-eminence. Let this thought reconcile us to 
our lot, whatever it may be. We cannot suffer as he suf- 
fered, for we are not able to bear it; nor will he allow us 
to reach his depth of poverty and destitution. 

Surely that cannot be a bad condition of life which Jesus 
chose as the best. It is not desirable to flesh and sense ; 
but his history shows that it is very profitable. No one 
ever lived who could more appropriately use the petition 
which he taught us — " Give us this day our daily bread" — 
than he. His was emphatically a life of faith and depend- 
ence ; and who among his true disciples would not be will- 
ing to follow in his footsteps ? 

His poverty was to him a source of keen suffering and 



MISSION AND POVERTY OF CHRIST. o Q 

trial ; for it not only subjected him at times to the pang~ s f 
hunger and the humiliation of being a beneficiary of tht> 
bounty of others; but it would cause him to be treated with 
neglect and contempt; for human nature was the same 
then as it is now. Yet, notwithstanding all this, he chose 
that condition as the best. 

And why the best? Because it was a condition which 
called into active exercise the graces of faith and trust. 
Because it set him above the world, and prevented it from 
thrusting itself in between him and his Father. Because it 
behooved him to become in all things like unto his brethren, 
and to show them by his own example what is good for 
them. He, as before remarked, sunk deeper in poverty 
than he will ever suffer us to sink, for he will not lay upon 
us more or heavier trials than we are able to bear. But his 
example shows us that, however undesirable poverty may 
be in itself, it is nevertheless often the best condition to 
which God, in his wise providence, can assign us. To some 
he may give large possessions, with grace to use them 
aright ; but this is by no means a mark of special favor. 
To be rich in faith is far better than to be rich in silver and 
gold, houses and lands. Paul was a poor man; yet who 
can conceive the riches of his inheritance even in this 
mortal life ? He received, as his Master promised he should, 
"more than a hundred fold in this present life ' ' of all he 
sacrificed. 

But we may not seek poverty for its own sake, any more 
than we may seek sickness, pain, or sorrow. When God 
sends these things in the way of trial and discipline, they 
are good ; but if self-inflicted, or voluntary, they are evil 
and only evil. Of this truth we have examples in the 
Romish and Hindoo superstitions. Our business is to be 
diligent in the pursuit of temporal blessings; and if our ex- 
ertions result in wealth, it is well ; but if not, it is still 



GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 
100 

.il. But, be our condition what it may, let us never 
forget 

" That He who bore in Heaven the second name, 
Had not on earth whereon to lay his head." 



"He went about doing good/' is the comprehensive 
statement of the laborious life of Jesus while he was a man 
among men. When he awoke from sleep in the little ship 
on the sea of Galilee, and with a word stopped the tempest 
and quieted the waves, he gave us a glimpse of the great- 
ness of his power ; but that was not the ordinary manner 
of his working. We see by that far-stretching act that all 
Nature was under his control, and that he was able, if he 
had seen proper, to give health to all the sick and suffering 
ones in Judea, or in the world, by the mere word of his 
power. But that was not his method. He labored hard, 
so that he often suffered weariness, hunger and thirst. In 
the labors of philanthropy he was made like unto his breth- 
ren; and in no case did he exert miraculous power to 
transport himself from place to place, or to supply his own 
wants. 

The believing centurion begged him to heal his sick ser- 
vant. Jesus said, "I will come and heal him ;" but the noble 
Roman soldier, with a faith at which Jesus himself mar- 
veled, suggested that it was only necessary for him to speak 
the word and the servant should live. He was right \ the 
word was spoken, and in a moment the man was restored 
to health, although at a considerable distance. This in- 
cident shows us three things : First, the readiness of Christ to 
endure labor and fatigue for the good of a suffering man — 



CHRIST S LIFE-WORK. IOI 

"I will come and heal him." Second, the nature and ex- 
tent of the faith we are warranted to put in him ; and third, 
the omnipotence and omnipresence of Christ ; for while 
talking with the master in one place, he was present with 
the servant in another, operating with a power nothing less 
than divine upon his disordered frame. 

Take another incident. Away out beyond the northern 
boundary of Galilee there was a poor and afflicted woman, 
whose daughter, as she herself expressed it, was "grievously 
vexed with a devil." This woman was not a Jewess, but a 
Gentile, a Syro-Phoenician ; but very likely a believer in the 
God of Israel, and one who had heard of Jesus and believed 
the report. To reach this woman Jesus must have walked 
twenty or thirty miles. But it pleased him, when he did meet 
her, to put her faith and meekness to a severe trial. He 
repulsed her as a Gentile by saying, "It is not meet to take 
the children's bread and to cast it to dogs." The answer 
of the woman to this terrible rebuff is among the noblest 
and wisest on record : "Truth, Lord; yet the dogs eat of 
the crumbs which fall from their master's table." That was 
enough. The Lord was pleased to try her severely, but 
not beyond what she was able to bear. " O woman," he 
exclaimed, ei great is thy faith ! Be it unto thee even as 
thou wilt." That moment health and peace were restored 
to that poor afflicted one; and doubtless both mother and 
daughter were made to rejoice in God their Saviour while 
they lived ; and who can doubt that among the hosts of the 
redeemed in heaven that woman wears a brighter crown for 
that glorious reply to those only words which Jesus ever ut- 
tered that had even the semblance of cruelty? He wished to 
give the world a living example of faith, humility and meek- 
ness, and hence his seeming harshness. But the compen- 
sation was rich and full, and all the sweeter for the momen- 
tary bitterness of the trial to which he subjected her. His 

9* 



102 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

commendation was to her an unfading crown of glory, both 
in this world and in her eternal home. 

On one occasion, while he and his disciples were away 
down near the river Jordan, Mary and Martha sent a mes- 
sage to him from Bethany in these simple and touching 
words: "Lord, behold he whom thou lovest is sick." 
They did not expressly ask him to come and heal him; nor 
did their faith rise to the level of that of the centurion, 
" Speak the word — speak it where thou art — and our broth- 
er shall not die." But it pleased him neither to go nor 
to speak the word, but to suffer the disease to take its course 
even unto death. Lazarus died and was buried before the 
Lord made any movement in the case. He knew that 
Lazarus was sick before the sisters sent the message. He 
knew when he died, for he told the disciples of his death. 
He knew how much agony he gave these loving sisters by 
not going to them; but this apparent neglect was the best 
part of his kindness. " Whom the Lord loveth he chasten- 
eth;" and John, with inimitable simplicity and pathos, tells 
us that "Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus." 
How many sorrowing, waiting, praying souls have been 
comforted by that which almost broke the hearts of these 
sisters ! — 

When the proper time came he and the disciples returned 
to Bethany. The news of his coming reached Martha's ear 
first, and she hastened out to meet him. Her first excla- 
mation was, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother 
had not died !" We see how far her faith fell short of the 
centurion's. She could not conceive how he could have 
done anything unless he had been personally present. My 
impression is that she felt a little hard at him for not 
coming in time. No reflection of that kind is uttered ; but 
if it was in her heart he knew it. Still she clung to him, and 
hoped for something, for she adds, "I know that, even now, 



CHRIST'S LIFE-WORK. IO3 

whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." 
Then followed the grand and calm discourse which Jesus 
held with Martha, in which he proclaimed himself to her 
and to the world as " the Resurrection and the Life," and 
then added, " He that believeth in me, though he were 
dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in 
me shall never die. Believest thou this ?" It is plain that al- 
though Martha held that Jesus was " the Christ, the Son of 
God, which should come into the world," yet her first re- 
mark that she knew that God would give him whatsoever he 
should ask, shows us that her conceptions of him rose no 
higher than that he was a highly favored prophet. Her 
error, if error it may be called, is seized by the great 
Teacher and made the occasion of lifting her faith, and the 
faith of his people of all ages, to a higher plane than mortals 
until then had ever known. And when he came to the grave 
and directed the stone to be rolled away, he addressed a few 
words of thanksgiving to his Father, but he does not ask for 
anything. Only to show the identity, the oneness of the 
Father and himself, he uttered those most remarkable words. 
(John xi. 41, 42.) Then turning to the opened tomb he 
cried, " Lazarus, come forth !" 

Poor Mary, more overwhelmed than her sister, had come 
out before this and met Jesus. She uttered the same words 
that Martha had uttered — " Lord, if thou hadst been here, 
my brother had not died ;" — but she did what Martha had 
not done ; she fell down at his feet. Deep sorrow, humility 
and submission were doing their salutary work. She was 
one who was to be wept with, not talked with. That is a 
pathetic scrap of history wherein we are told that Job's three 
friends, when they came to condole with him in his afflic- 
tion, " sat down with him upon the ground seven days and 
seven nights, and none spake a word unto him ; for they saw 
that his grief was very great." So Jesus, when he came to 



104 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Bethany and saw Mary weeping and the Jews also weeping 
which came with her, groaned in the spirit, was troubled, 
and wept. But to her he said not one word. There is a 
good example here. Silent sympathy, expressed, as it was 
in this case, by tears qr other tokens of grief, or even by 
the warm and protracted pressure of the hand, is often, in 
the fresh moments of a great sorrow, more grateful, more 
comforting, more strengthening to the stricken heart, than 
the flood of pious utterances and scriptural quotations with 
which many well-meaning but not wise people fill the ears 
of those whose grief is very great. When, like Job, the 
afflicted one begins to curse his day, or, like Martha, is a 
little inclined to murmur because her prayers were not an- 
swered in time, or the Master delayed his coming, then 
some appropriate talk is good. Jesus, we see, did talk to 
Martha with great power and effect ; but Mary only saw his 
tears and heard his groans. Each sister got just what she 
needed. 

In all his work, as a teacher, as a healer, as an itinerant 
on errands of mercy, Jesus took no advantage of his 
divine powers to exempt himself from the toil and fa- 
tigue inseparable from such a life. In that respect he made 
himself like unto his brethren, and is their exemplar. None 
labored harder, or felt the effects of that labor more. He 
was a perfect man with all the social instincts and sinless in- 
firmities of humanity, and this humanity acted itself out as 
fully and as freely as if it had not been conjoined with the 
Divine. Hence he was melted to tears at the grief of these 
sisters, although he knew that in a few minutes he would 
change their sorrow into joy. In his going about doing good, 
he acted as a man. As a man he sought for occasions to 
relieve the afflicted and impart instruction to the ignorant. 
But the wisdom which directed every step he took, every 
word he uttered, and every deed he performed, so that 



CHRIST AND HIS LITTLE CHILDREN. I05 

light and truth gushed out in all directions from every re- 
corded incident, was as great, as infinite, as was the miracu- 
lous power he exerted. That power was shown to be in- 
herent, not derived. "O Lord, my God, I beseech thee, 
let this child's soul come into him again!" was the prayer 
of Elijah, when he restored the dead son of the widow of 
Zarephath. "Young man, I say unto thee, arise," was the 
sovereign command of Christ, when he restored the dead 
son of the widow of Nain. The language of the first, 
although he takes rank among the mightiest of the prophets, 
is that of one who, in himself, is utterly impotent in such 
a case as that ; the language of the other is that of one 
who is absolutely Almighty. These two incidents com- 
pared ought to be sufficient to satisfy any mind of the 
divinity of Jesus Christ. In power Jesus rose to the full 
grandeur of God. In subjection to infirmity, temptation, 
weakness, toil, weariness and sorrow, he had no advantage 
over his brethren. In all things he was made like unto 
them. The Captain of our Salvation was made perfect 
through suffering. How emphatic are his own words to the 
two disciples on the way to Emmaus — "Ought not Christ 
to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ?" 



m\M and §te gift!* (RM&xm. 

Those simple-hearted parents who brought their infant 
children to Jesus that he might touch them, were doing a 
greater work than they knew, and were impelled and guided 
by a higher wisdom than their own. It was doubtless a 
concerted matter among a few neighboring families of be- 
lievers in Jesus ; and they appear to have come together. 
The children were not diseased ; but the parents — possibly 
only the mothers— had a strong desire that those healing 



106 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

hands, whose merest touch brought health and life to the 
sick and the dying, should be laid upon the heads of their 
infant offspring. We know not that their faith rose so high as 
to take hold on eternal life ; nor does it matter. They were 
graciously accepted, approved and blessed above all that 
they could ask or think. 

When the little company arrived where Jesus was, the dis- 
ciples, like a watchful outer guard, would inquire of them 
what they wanted, and when told they rebuked them, and, 
it may be, treated them unkindly, as though what they sought 
was something too childish, too trifling — an unwarranted 
liberty with their great Master, an assault upon his dignity, 
and an interference with his proper work, which must not 
be tolerated. Now let us see what a mistake they made. 

"When Jesus saw it he was much displeased, and said 
unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God." 
And then he added : — 

"Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the 
kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. 
And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them 
and blessed them." — Mark x. 14, 15. 

This tableau — so simple, so humble, so sublime — was the 
product neither of human wisdom nor of parental affection, 
although the latter was made to blend with it as a necessary 
and affecting factor. In this way Christ, in his adorable 
wisdom and power, set forth at once his loving kindness 
to children as such, and at the same time, that great prin- 
ciple in the kingdom of grace expressed by himself in 
these words: "Except ye be converted and become as lit- 
tle children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." 
He called his disciples by that endearing term just before 
he suffered (John xiii. 33), and repeatedly he uses the term 
" little ones." Paul calls the Galatians " my little chil- 



CHRIST AND HIS LITTLE CHILDREN. I07 

dren," and four times does John in his first epistle use the 
same tender term. 

Let us, in illustration of this great principle, look at two 
cases, where strong, resolute, self-willed men were turned 
into little children by the sweetly subduing power of divine 
grace. 

Peter, during the time he was with his Lord, was a rough, 
hardy fisherman, honest and true, but impetuous, impul- 
sive, and self-reliant. He seemed, indeed, to act as if lie 
felt himself to be the champion of his more gentle Master, 
as we learn from his rebuking him for declaring that his ene- 
mies would put him to death, saying, " Be it far from thee, 
Lord. This shall not be unto thee." There was not much 
of the spirit of the little child in that outburst. Again, "I 
will go with thee to prison and to death." And again : "I 
will lay down my life for thy sake." And again : "Though 
all men should deny thee, yet will not I." These bold and 
confident expressions — yet as honest as they were bold — 
were not much like the utterances of a little child. At 
length the Master is arrested, and offers no resistance. But 
Peter — brave, as a soldier is accounted brave — drew his 
sword and cut off a man's ear. That was anything but the 
act of a little child. Not being allowed to fight, he fled, 
for he had courage for nothing else. But his sincere love 
for his Master would not suffer him to stay away, so he fol- 
lowed him afar off to the palace of the high priest. There 
his courage failed utterly, and thrice he denied that he 
knew him. The last time his old rough character broke out, 
and he began to curse and swear. So he fell as far as a man 
could fall short of absolute perdition. 

But then the cock crew, and "the Lord turned and 
looked upon Peter, and Peter went out and wept bitterly." 
Then followed the awful tragedy of the next day. Then 
the dark three days that the Lord lay in Joseph's tomb. 



108 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Then the agitation caused by the rumors of his resurrection. 
The strong, self-reliant Peter is utterly broken down and 
has become as a little child. Having nothing else to do, 
he and some of his fellow disciples go a- fishing. They 
toiled all night, but without success. In the morning a 
stranger is seen standing on the shore of the lake, who di- 
rects them to cast the net on the right side of the ship. 
They obey, and immediately the net is full of fishes. "It 
is the Lord !" cries John, and instantly, regardless of fishes, 
net and every thing else, Peter plunges into the water and 
swims ashore to his much-loved Master. For the first time 
the rough, strong, impetuous sailor is a little child, and acts 
like one. The old Simon is utterly broken down, and 
Jesus could have said then, as he said on the first occasion, 
"Suffer the little child to come unto me, and forbid him 
not." And how like a child he meets him and talks with 
him — "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" "Yea, 
Lord, thou knowest that I love thee/' is the childlike reply. 
Three times the question is asked, and three times the same 
unfaltering answer is returned. Thus Peter, after three years 
of tuition and discipline, has become a little child, and is 
in the kingdom of God, prepared to feed the lambs and the 
sheep as his Lord bade him. Thenceforward he stands 
before us among the grandest and most intrepid Christian 
heroes the world ever saw. Up to that time his rugged 
natural manhood kept the little child down, as is sadly true 
of multitudes of real Christians of the present day. 

Now let us look at the other. 

Saul of Tarsus was as honest a man as Peter ; but he 
came to the conclusion that Jesus of Nazareth, who had re- 
cently suffered death as a malefactor, was an impostor; and 
in bis impetuous zeal for Israel and Israel's God he con- 
ceived it to be his duty to crush out the sect that bore his 
name. He " breathed out threatenings and slaughter." 



CHRIST AND HIS LITTLE CHILDREN. I09 

Satan was using him and ruling him at the very time when, 
to use his own language, he " verily thought that he was 
doing God service." Every Bible reader is familiar with 
the wonderful story of his conversion on the road to 
Damascus. Never was there a man more unlike a little 
child than Saul was when Jesus let his glory shine upon 
him, and spoke to him in a tone at once of authority and 
expostulation — " Saul ! Saul ! why persecutest thou me ?" 
Instantly the mad persecutor became a little child. Awe, 
reverence and submission dictated his first words, — " Who 
art thou, Lord?" — and when the astounding answer came, 
(< Iam Jesus whom thou persecutest," the little child, liber- 
ated from the clutches of the evil one, ran to him, if hot 
at first with joy, at least with a spirit of filial obedience, 
crying, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" The Lord 
had work for him, and grandly and faithfully he did it. No 
man ever left a more splendid record on earth than he \ 
none wears a more glorious crown in heaven. 

The transformation of Peter from a strong, self-poised, 
natural man to a little child, was the work of time and of 
varied and sore discipline. That of Saul of Tarsus was 
instantaneous. 

The words of Christ are still living and authoritative 
words, " Suffer the little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not." They apply to children in years, as at 
first; but they also apply to us all; for during all our 
lives we are or ought to be little children, and to suffer the 
simple trust, the humble, confiding^faith, the meek submis- 
sion, the out-gushing affection of children to go out to our 
Heavenly Father, without a shadow of doubt that he is 
our Father, and that he loves us. Each of us has such a 
child under his or her control. Let us beware, then, lest 
we incur the displeasure of the Saviour, as the disciples did, 
by rebuking these childish outgoings of the soul towards 

10 



HO GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

him. We, in our pride, think it more becoming to conse- 
crate to him our learning, our talents, our wealth, our in- 
fluence — some great thing, as poor Peter imagined his 
sword to be; but his command is, " Suffer the little chil- 
dren " — simple trust, humble and unquestioning faith, 
deep-felt dependence, pure love— " to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God." 

In Isaiah's magnificent imagery we have a picture not 
only of the world at large in the latter day, but of each 
regenerated human soul: — " The wolf also shall dwell with 
the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and 
the calf and the young lion and the fading together; and 
a little child shall lead them." All the warring elements of 
our nature brought into harmony, and placed under the 
control of that which is esteemed the weakest and most de- 
fenceless of any. Let Christians, therefore, be careful 
how they crush back, and rebuke, and forbid the growth', 
advance and controlling power of the little child that is in 
them. 



Site P*»0ttM Ctf §0M* 

Luke, in the closing verses of his seventh chapter, gives 
us an incident which throws more light upon the question 
of Christian love, its operation upon the heart, and its fruits 
in the life and conduct, than any amount of mere abstract 
teaching could ever give. Two personages are brought 
upon the stage, and exhibited to us by a few of as mas- 
terly strokes of word-painting as the world has ever seen. 
Luke is distinguished for this gift or talent beyond all the 
other writers of the sacred Scriptures. It was this which 
led some old divine to say that Luke was a painter, and 
that he had left behind him a portrait of our Lord. The re- 



THE MEASURE OF LOVE. Ill 

mark was taken up by the more simple and ignorant people 
of his day in a literal sense ; and hence a kind of legend 
spread abroad, and was transmitted to succeeding genera- 
tions, that such a picture was somewhere in the world, and 
that if it could only be found we should know what Christ's 
personal appearance was. 

A Pharisee, named Simon, invited Jesus one day to go 
home with him and dine. Jesus was pleased to accept the 
invitation, for he was eminently social ; and it was under 
such circumstances that some of his richest instructions Vere 
given. He knew what prompted Simon to invite him ; we 
do not. It may have been curiosity, and a wish to become 
better acquainted with this extraordinary person ; for, 
despise him as he might, he could not but see that he was no 
common man. Or it might have been an ordinary good- 
natured but careless act of hospitality. We say careless, 
for Jesus told him plainly and frankly that he had not ex- 
tended to him those attentions and courtesies due to an 
honored guest. No matter what his motive was, Jesus went 
in and sat down to meat in full foreknowledge of all that 
was about to happen. 

They are eating. Conversation is doubtless going on, but 
on what subject we are not told. Silently, timidly, humbly, 
tremblingly, a woman enters, says not a word, but walks to 
the feet of Jesus, which, in the recumbent posture of those 
days, are extended back from the table and easily ap- 
proachable. In her hand she bears a box of costly oint- 
ment. Her object is to anoint those feet — 

11 Those blessed feet, 
Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nailed, 
For our redemption, to the bitter cross." 

But she found them soiled with the dust of travel; for 
Simon had given him no water to wash them. Shall she 
mingle that precious ointment with that dust ? No, no ! 



112 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

she cannot do that. Then the full heart of the penitent 
burst, and Nature's fountain flowed copiously, the shower 
falling upon those dust-stained feet making them clean. 
With a woman's quickness and tact the drops of peniten- 
tial grief are allowed to fall just where they are needed ; and 
then, the dust having been washed away, her hair is made 
to do the office of a towel. Now they are clean. Now 
she can and does kiss them. Now the ointment is applied, 
and the room is filled with the odor. 

This strange scene would engross the attention of all the 
guests and of the host himself, and put a stop to. all conver- 
sation. The woman was well known, and her reputation 
was not good, " for she was a sinner." Such an outgush 
of love and tears, such a rich and costly offering, such an 
unparalleled work of love — washing dust-covered feet with 
tears and wiping them dry with that which a woman regards 
as her crown of glory — would excite a variety of thoughts 
and feelings in the minds of the company. One, and only 
one, understood it perfectly, and was able to measure the 
purity, sincerity and depth of the love which prompted the 
act. And we know what Simon thought, for the Searcher 
of hearts made this record of what he said within himself; 
but it is plain that he did not give it audible utterance : 
"This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who 
and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him, for 
she is a sinner." Simon, by this, shows us that he was a 
keen, cold cynic, and one who was on the lookout for 
something that would discredit the pretensions of his guest. 
" He claims to be a prophet; but this shows that he is no 
such thing. Ah ! I have found him out !" — and he doubt- 
less felt inclined to chuckle. 

Still not a word had been spoken. What the thoughts of 
the others at the table were we are not told. At last Jesus, 
in a tone in which the gentleness, dignity and severity of 
his character are blended, speaks : 



THE MEASURE OF LOVE. II3 

u Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." 

"Master, say on." 

" There was a certain creditor who had two debtors; the 
one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And 
when they had nothing to pay he frankly forgave them 
both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him 
most ?" 

" I suppose that he to whom he forgave most." 

" Thou hast rightly judged." 

Then, probably for the first time he turned to the woman, 
who, we may suppose, had finished her work and was about 
to withdraw, and said to Simon : 

"Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house; 
thou gavest me no water for my feet ; but she hath washed 
my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her 
head. Thou gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the 
time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head 
with oil thou didst not anoint; but this woman hath an- 
ointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto 
thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven ; for she loved 
much; but to whom little is forgiven the same loveth 
little." 

Rebuked, abashed and silenced, but still resisting, this 
Pharisee is heard of no more. Then Jesus, turning to the 
woman, said, "Thy sins are forgiven." O what glad 
tidings of great joy did these few words carry to that trem- 
bling, broken heart. 

But it seems that the magnificent address of the Lord 
to Simon was lost upon some of his guests, for they at once 
began to cavil, and to say within themselves, " Who is this 
that forgiveth sins also?" We are not told that he deigned 
to say anything to them. The work was complete, and he 
only added, "Thy faith hath saved thee. Go in peace.* ' 

To this woman's work the Saviour himself points as the 
10* 



1 14 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

measure of her love. It was a hard and bitter cross to 
enter the dwelling of that cold, proud man ; so it was to 
manifest her love and gratitude as she did in the presence 
of those men who, as she well knew, despised her and 
deemed her very presence offensive and polluting. To her 
the alabaster box of ointment was a costly offering, but it 
was freely given as a token of her love to her glorious Ben- 
efactor. Jesus tells us nothing about her emotions, her 
frame of mind, her sorrows, her hopes, or fears. He 
points to her works, and from them alone he draws his evi- 
dence that she loved much. ' 

Does any Christian feel a wish to have this woman's op- 
portunity to honor Christ, and does he imagine'^that he would 
gladly do likewise? Well, dear Christian friend, you have it. 
Hear his words — words of commendation to be pronounced 
in the great day : — "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto 
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it 
unto me." 



The patriarch Jacob, in his wanderings, with his numer- 
ous family and flocks, dwelt for a time at a place called 
Shechem, where he digged a well, which was for ages cele- 
brated for the abundance and excellence of its water. This 
well was known in the days of our Saviour, and is even yet 
known, as " Jacob's well." Its original object was to water 
the flocks of the proprietor ; but long afterwards a city was 
built near it, the inhabitants of which drew their principal 
supply of water from it. This famous well was situated in 
that portion of the land of Palestine which, in New Testa- 
ment times, was called Samaria ; and that which in Genesis 
is called Shechem had been changed to Sychar. Shechem 



CHRIST AND THE SAMARITAN WOMAN. 1 15 

was the place where Jacob sent his son Joseph to seek his 
brethren and inquire after their welfare; but when he ar- 
rived at the place he found that they had removed to Dothan. 
He followed them and found them there, and there they sold 
him to merchants who were going down to Egypt. Jacob, 
at his death, bequeathed a piece of ground to Joseph, and 
the Evangelist John tells us that this was the same property. 
It remained in his family until the carrying away of the Ten 
Tribes. 

On one of his journeys from Judea to Galilee, Jesus was 
pleased to pass through Samaria by way of Sychar. He 
traveled on foot, in company with his disciples. It was 
about noon when they reached the well. Wearied with his 
journey, the Master sat down by the well, while the disci- 
ples went into the city to buy food sufficient to furnish 
them with a frugal repast, which they designed to take at 
the well ; for such was the prejudice existing between the 
Jews and the Samaritans that no act of hospitality was to be 
expected there. This prejudice did not prevent the Jews 
and Samaritans from making purchases one of another when 
the necessities of the case required it ; but the Jews deemed 
it an abomination to ask even a cup of water of a Samari- 
tan. The language of their conduct towards these neigh- 
bors was, " Stand back: I am holier than thou." It is 
true that the Samaritans had a corrupt religion, — a mingling 
of Hebrew and heathen rites, — for they were themselves a 
mingled people; but, from all we can gather of their charac- 
ter from the New Testament, they were a simple-minded 
people, more willing to receive the truth and embrace the 
t Saviour than were the proud, bigoted Jews. The blame of 
this non-intercourse, I think, lay at the door of the latter. 

While Jesus was sitting there, alone, weary, hungry, 
thirsty, and but ill sheltered from the rays of the meridian 
sun, a woman came out of the city to draw water. She 



Il6 GATHERINGS IN EEULAH. 

could not avoid seeing this Jewish stranger; and the con- 
sciousness that she was in the presence ot one who despised 
her would cause her to hasten her operations that she might 
escape from his presence. That animosity which is insepar- 
able from such a feeling would boil up intensely, and render 
her, as some might imagine, insensible to any good impres- 
sions. But it was not so in the case before us; nor is it a 
general truth that such a state of mind as we have supposed 
this woman to have been in is unfavorable to the reception 
of good impressions. It is true in the moral world, as it is 
in the physical, that the moment when anything is strained 
to its utmost tension is the very time to break it and destroy 
its power of further resistance. Jesus, who perfectly knew 
all hearts, touched the right spring when he said, " Give me 
to drink.' ' The woman was both surprised and pleased that 
a Jew should ask a favor of her. Her heart warmed to- 
wards him, because she saw that he at least did not despise 
her, nor disdain to ask a favor of her; and now she felt that 
there was one Jew that she did not hate. Still, her womanly 
curiosity was excited, and she asked him how it was that 
he, being a Jew, should ask drink of her, who was a woman 
of Samaria. There was nothing in the question that indi- 
cated any thing like displeasure ; but the thing was so unusual, 
so unexpected, that she wished to know how it was that he 
differed so far from the rest of his countrymen. The Saviour 
did not choose to go into a direct explanation, but intimated 
to her that He who had just asked a favor of her was able to 
confer upon her favors infinitely more valuable. 

I have said that the Saviour touched the right spring in 
this woman's heart. He asked a favor, — a small one, to be ■ 
sure, but still a favor. Had he first offered a favor, doubt- 
less it would have been coldly rejected; but in asking one 
he disarmed her prejudice and put an end to her hostility. 
How strange a thing is the human heart ! and how important 
it is to understand its workings ! 



CHRIST AND THE SAMARITAN WOMAN. II 7 

In answer to her inquiry, why he had asked her for 
drink, Jesus said, "If thou knevvest the Gift of God, and 
who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst 
have asked of him and he would have given thee living 
water." The woman did not understand the imagery of 
the Saviour, but replied by asking another question, in 
which ignorance and shrewdness are curiously blended. 
"Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep; 
from whence then hast thou that living water?" In Pales- 
tine what was called living water was the water of springs, 
whether issuing from the surface of the earth or in the 
bottom of such a well as the one at Sychar, as contra-dis- 
tinguished from the water of pools or cisterns. Under- 
standing him literally, the woman seemed surprised that he 
should talk of having living water at his disposal. "Thou 
hast nothing to draw," said she, "and the well is deep." 
These words, although misapplied when first uttered, are 
words of awful truth when applied to the presumptuous 
sinner who imagines that he can draw water out of the 
wells of salvation when he pleases. Let him remember 
that he has nothing to draw with, and the well is deep. 
True, the proclamation is, "Ho! everyone that thirsteth, 
come ye to the waters ;" and "let him that is athirstcome." 
But let him not come in his own righteousness or strength; 
for the well is deep, and he has nothing to draw with. 
None but Jesus can draw that water; and to whomsoever 
wills he will give it, and give it freely. He desired to give 
it to this woman; and when at last he succeeded in con- 
vincing her that he was the long-expected Messiah, we 
have every reason to believe that she did joyfully receive 
this unspeakable gift. 

"Give me to drink," was the prayer of the suffering 
Saviour to the Samaritan woman ; for, sure enough, the 
well was deep and he had nothing to draw with. How 



Il8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

touching is it to behold the glorious Author of eternal life 
thus personifying, in a figure, the perishing sinner, to whom 
he only can give the water of eternal life ! " Give me to 
drink/ ' said he; and what he said to that woman he desires 
us to say to him. And how must it grieve him to see us 
forsaking him, the fountain of living waters, and hewing 
out to ourselves cisterns — broken cisterns — that can hold no 
water ! 

The woman seemed to be incapable of understanding the 
Saviour's metaphorical language, but persisted in a literal 
interpretation of it ; so he abruptly changed the subject by 
requesting her to go and call her husband and come back 
to him. She replied that she had no husband. Jesus con- 
firmed her words by telling her that, ^although she had had 
five husbands, she was then living in adultery ; for, said he, 
" he whom thou now hast is not thy husband." Unabashed, 
the woman coolly remarked, " Sir, I perceive that thou art 
a prophet;" and then attempted to draw him into an ar- 
gument as to whether that mountain or Jerusalem was the 
proper place to worship. Then it was that he gave utter- 
ance to some of the sublimest truths that ever saluted 
human ears. With God-like authority, he pronounced the 
old ceremonial law of the Jews abrogated, and announced 
the advent of the gospel, when it should no longer be re- 
quired of men to go to that mountain, nor yet to Jerusa- 
lem, to worship the Father. God was about to manifest 
himself to his people in a clearer and simpler aspect than 
ever he had done since Adam was expelled from Eden. 
" God is a spirit; and they that worship him must worship 
him in spirit and in truth." 

What an address was this to such an audience ! One 
Samaritan woman only heard it fall from the lips of its 
author; but the pen of inspiration caught up his words, 
and they have gone to the ends of the world, and millions 



THE BLIND MAN RECEIVING SIGHT. II9 

of hearts have been thrilled, enlightened, and warned by 
them. When men are about to utter an important truth, 
they seek out-some great occasion, and a large and intelli- 
gent audience capable of appreciating what they say. How 
differently did Jesus act ! But in this he exhibited himself 
as God and not man. To him nothing was great, nothing 
small. As the God of Providence, his words were safe ; 
for he had power to preserve them forever, and to send 
them to all the world. 

The woman believed, and eagerly and gladly she called 
upon her neighbors to come out and see the Messiah. Many 
of them believed also, and he abode amongst them two 
days. He then resumed his journey to Galilee, on his mis- 
sion of love and mercy. 



It is a sad thing to be blind. Milton, who had enjoyed 
the blessing of sight until his mind had become richly 
stored with learning, and his fine genius had been grandly 
developed, thus in eloquent pathos, laments its loss: — 

11 Thus with the year 
Seasons return ; but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark, 
Surround me, from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
Presented with a universal blank 
Of Nature's works, to me expunged and razed, 
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out." 

If to be deprived of sight, after having drawn in wisdom 
and knowledge through this greatest entrance to the soul, — 



120 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH, 

after the mind has been filled with the vivid images of 
beauty and truth which only the eye can reveal, — images 
which can afterwards be brought forth in endless combi- 
nations by the power of memory, — be so afflictive, what 
must it be to be born blind, and thus be totally incapable 
of even the idea of light, of color, and of the infinite 
field of beauty and grandeur which this most perfect and 
spiritual of our senses reveals to us ! To know that others 
are blessed with a sublime and delightful power, of the 
nature of which we cannot form even the vaguest concep- 
tion, must be an affliction of the sorest kind. 

In the ninth chapter of the Gospel by John we have a 
very interesting narrative of a man who was born blind re- 
ceiving the gift of sight from the Saviour. He was not only 
blind, but poor ; for we are incidentally told that he sat by 
the wayside begging. Jesus, as he passed by, saw him. We 
are not told that the blind man said any thing to him, or 
solicited alms of him, much less asked him to give him 
sight. Very likely the man had never heard of Jesus ; nay, 
we are almost sure of it ; for, when subsequently questioned 
by his neighbors about the manner of his obtaining sight, 
he said, li A man that is called Jesus made clay," &c, 
plainly intimating that all that he knew of his Benefactor 
was that he was called Jesus: 

The disciples, who were in company, inquired of the 
Saviour, who had sinned, this man or his parents, that he 
was born blind. This was a common Jewish superstition, 
which attributed every unusual casualty or affliction to spme 
heinous sin committed either by the subject of it or by his 
immediate progenitors. Jesis corrected their mistake by 
replying, " Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents; 
but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.' 7 
We must not understand him as asserting that this man and 
his parents were sinless \ but that neither he nor they had 



THE BLIND MAN RECEIVING SIGHT. lit 

sinned in the manner supposed. Possibly a trace of the 
wide-spread oriental and still existing superstition of the 
transmigration of souls had found a lodgment in the minds 
of the disciples; for the notion that this blindness was on 
account of the man's own sins could only refer to sins com- 
mitted in a former body. 

This conversation being over, Jesus approached the blind 
man, carrying in his hand a little of the dust of the road, 
moistened with his own spittle, and with this he anointed 
his eyes. Was there any thing in the dust and the spittle 
that could give sight to those ray less orbs ? Certainly not. 
Could not Jesus have restored him to sight, as he did Barti- 
meus, with a word ? Doubtless he could. Then why make 
clay, which of itself was worthless? Did he do so merely 
to manifest his sovereignty or to vary the mode of his 
operations ? We must not think so. Unquestionably the 
clay was necessary, or it would not have been used. But 
Jesus is not enigmatical either in his words or his works ; 
and a little reflection will teach us why he put clay on this 
man's eyes, and not on those of Bartimeus. 

Bartimeus knew Jesus, and fully believed in his power to 
heal him ; but this poor man, whose mind was as dark as 
his eyes, knew him not, and of course did not and could 
not believe in him. The faith of the former existed and 
was in full action, and he had done his part when he cried 
for mercy and afterwards cast aside his garment and ran to 
his great Deliverer ; but in the wretched object before us 
faith was not yet even implanted. It required something 
tangible — something that he could feel — to excite hope or 
action ; and the clay was well calculated to do this. 

It was an extraordinary action on the part of a stranger ; 
and when accompanied by the command, uttered in a tone of 
kindness, "Go, wash," strong expectation, however vague 
and indefinite, would thrill his soul and lead him to instant 

n 



122 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

obedience. This hope, this vague expectation of some ben- 
efit, was the beginning of faith, and his going and washing 
were its first fruits, his first acts of obedience. Moreover, 
there was a fitness between the situation in which the Saviour 
had placed him and the command ; for the clay, had he not 
obeyed, would have been as uncomfortable as it would have 
been unseemly. 

"Go wash in the pool of Siloam," said the great Physician. 
This pool was not far distant, so the command was reason- 
able. But no other water would have answered, because to 
have washed anywhere else would have involved an act of 
disobedience. The blind man appears to have made no ob- 
jection to the pool, but went immediately, washed, "and 
came seeing. ,, We cannot imagine the wonder and delight 
that would fill his soul, when, upon raising his head from 
the water, the glories of creation burst upon him in all their 
amplitude and splendor. 

In the meantime Jesus went away, and the man saw 
nothing more of him for some time ; but we may be sure 
that he did not for a moment lose sight of his glad and grate- 
ful servant. As was natural, the affair made a great excite- 
ment among the man's neighbors; for the case was very 
surprising. Not content with wondering at and talking of 
the strange event themselves, they brought him to the Phar- 
isees. These last would be astounded at this new evidence 
of the divine mission of Him whom they hated and were 
determined at all hazards to oppose. But presently they 
discovered that "it was on the Sabbath day when Jesus 
made the clay and opened his eyes. ,, This terrible dese- 
cration of the Sabbath was enough for them. They were 
blind to the great and obvious fact that God himself had 
miraculously blessed the simple means which Jesus had made 
use of, and thus signally manifested his approbation. 

In foretelling to his disciples the persecutions they should 



THE BLIND MAN RECEIVING SIGHT. 1 23 

meet with, — that they should be brought before kings and 
rulers for his name's sake, — the Saviour uttered this remark- 
able language: "Settle it therefore in your hearts not to 
meditate before what ye shall answer ; for I will give you a 
mouth and wisdom, which all your adversaries shall not be 
able to gainsay nor resist/ ' In the examination of this poor, 
simple man before these haughty rulers we see a fulfillment 
of this promise. In an artless but irresistible argument he 
confounds them, and then boldly asks them to become the 
disciples of Jesus. All the reply they had was in these 
words of scorn and pride: — "Thou wast altogether born in 
sin; and dost thou teach us?" plainly showing that they 
too labored under the same superstitious notion which the 
Saviour had corrected in his disciples ; and, having uttered 
this cruel taunt, they cast him out of the synagogue. This 
was a heavy penalty, attended not only with the loss of re- 
ligious privileges, but with many civil and social disabilities. 
Notwithstanding, therefore, the blessing of vision which had 
just been conferred upon him, he wandered forth, like his 
glorious Benefactor, a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with grief, despised and rejected, an outcast, accursed and 
shunned. 

In this forlorn condition Jesus sought him, "and when 
he had found him he said, Dost thou believe on the Son of 
God?" Ah! here is more light, — better than that which 
the clay and the spittle let in. That showed him this 
world, and a sad revelation it had been to him ; but now, 
having been chastened and tried, he is about to be trans- 
lated into the glorious light and liberty of the children of 
God. The inquiry came home with power to his heart, and 
he eagerly asked, " Who is he, Lord, that I might believe 
in him ? And Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast both seen 
him, and he it is that talketh with thee." When the glories 
of the visible creation burst upon his astonished soul at the 



124 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Pool of Siloam, his wonder and joy would be great indeed; 
but the joy that now thrilled his heart at the presence of 
his God and Saviour as far transcended that as the heavens 
are higher than the earth. With passionate devotion he 
exclaimed, "Lord, I belie ve," and then worshiped him 
as no creature may be worshiped. Before this he had 
honored his Benefactor as a prophet; now he adores him as 
his God. 

This is one of those passages which is in itself a fountain of 
living water, — a perennial spring at which we may drink and 
come again and again. The narrative, interesting in itself, 
is bestudded with gems of inestimable truth. In it we see 
the power, the goodness and the mercy of Jesus ; we see 
the wretchedness of fallen man lying in hopeless darkness 
and ignorance; and we see the rise, progress, triumph, and 
reward of faith. Then, if we turn to the dark side of the 
picture, we see the invincible hostility of unbelief to all 
that is true and lovely and of good report. But, better 
than all, in it we read, substantially, a history of our own 
espousals, if indeed we do believe on the Son of God. 
And happy are we if, like the man upon whom Jesus be- 
stowed sight, we can say, " One thing I know, that whereas 
I was blind, now I see." 



"mtvefm flitfet Awn §mW?" 

" It is I; be not afraid !" was the cheering cry of Jesus, 
as he came walking through darkness and storm, over the 
turbulent surface of the Sea of Galilee. Upon the impul- 
sive and excitable spirit of Peter, the well known voice of 
his beloved Master wrought a sudden and remarkable 
change. Like his companions, he had been troubled, and 
almost in despair ; but that voice and that presence in- 






"WHEREFORE DIDST THOU DOUBT ?"' 12$ 

stantly threw him into the opposite extreme — one which, 
in a man more calm and considerate than Peter, might 
have been condemned as presumptuous ; and his request — 
1 « Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the 
water " — had it not sprung, sudden, fresh and gushing, 
from a loving and confiding heart, would probably have 
been denied. But the impulse was not condemned, and the 
request was immediately granted. Jesus said, {< Come." 

Instantly and gladly, Peter left, the ship to go to Jesus. 
Matthew tells us that he did walk on the water to go to 
Jesus. So long as his faith was firm, so long did he tread 
the liquid and turbulent pathway with a firm step; " but 
when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid." His 
trouble commenced the moment he ceased to "look unto 
Jesus" with a single eye — when his attention became di- 
vided between Him and the turbulent elements around him. 
So long as he was able to keep his gaze fixed steadily upon 
Him in whom he trusted, and at whose bidding he was 
walking, so long was his tread as firm as his. " The works 
that I do shall ye do also," is the law of the great relation 
between Christ and his disciples. But Peter's error in this 
incident was in trusting too much in the strength of his own 
faith. He knew very well before he left the ship that it 
was only by the divine power of his Master that he could 
walk on the water at all ; and the idea that it was possible 
for him to cease relying upon that power seems never to 
have entered his mind. He was just as confident on this 
occasion, as when he. said, "I will lay down my life for 
thy sake." Never did man utter anything that he more 
firmly and heartily believed than Peter did in these rash 
words ; but yet, before the cock crew, he had three times 
vehemently denied that he ever knew Jesus of Nazareth. 

The two cases are very much alike. In both, Peter 
trusted too much in his own strength and courage. In 



126 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

both, he began to sink. In both, he was lifted up and saved 
by the same loving hand. On the sea he became afraid of 
the boisterous waves that seemed ready to engulf him. In 
the palace of the High Priest his spirit quailed before the 
fury of his Master's enemies, whose power seemed at the 
moment to be invincible. Even Jesus himself appeared to 
his terrified imagination to be overcome and lost — swallowed 
up by the angry and tumultuous waves of popular wrath. 
So that night, as on the stormy lake, he " began to sink." 

But in neither case did he sink. It was impossible that 
he could sink. Both on the lake and in the High Priest's 
palace, his "life was hid with Christ in God," His faith, 
his strength, his courage, all failed ; but his love did not. 
On the lake his faith, as first exhibited, failed wretchedly ; 
but in a humbler form it rallied to the rescue with the cry, 
"Lord, save me." It was enough. Jesus put forth his 
hand and caught him. In the other place he could not 
take him by the hand, but he turned and looked upon him, 
and sent him as a humble, believing, loving penitent, out 
into darkness and solitude to weep bitterly. Oh ! those 
were salutary tears ! Weeping Peter, in the eyes of angels, 
stood on a higher plane of Christian character than boast- 
ing Peter. And Peter, returning with dripping garments, 
to the ship, grasping, with childlike, trembling trust, the 
hand of Jesus, was a wiser and better man than when he 
set out. 

"O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" 
is the mild and gentle rebuke of Him who loved him and 
saved him, if rebuke it may be called. " He knoweth our 
frame ; he remembereth that we are dust." He knew then 
what the same Peter so confidently and so truly affirmed, 
after the resurrection, and on the shore of the same lake — 
" Thou knowest that I love thee." That was enough. He 
might blunder, and stumble, make sad mistakes, and get 



PETER FISHING FOR A COIN. 1 27 

into trouble ; but so long as the fire of genuine love was 
not totally extinguished in his heart, his faith could not 
fail. Therefore it was impossible that he could perish. 

But "wherefore didst thou doubt ?" said Jesus. Peter, 
so far as the record goes, did not attempt to answer the 
question, even if an answer was desired. But we know, be- 
cause the reason is given by the evangelist — " When he saw 
the wind boisterous, he was afraid/ ' He looked at his stormy 
surroundings, and the more he saw of them, the less he saw 
of Jesus. So he began to doubt, and then b egan to sink. 
Thus many a Christian looks so much at his sins, at his in- 
bred corruptions, at his outward temptations and trials, at 
the sorrows, the troubles and the difficulties of his lot, that 
he cannot keep his eye steadily fixed upon Jesus, and hence 
is often doubting and sinking. 

Peter erred in asking to be called to do what he did. 
There was a little presumption in it ; but it afforded a salu- 
tary lesson to him, and to believers in all ages. How glad 
we ought to be that our all-wise Saviour is able to make 
even the faults of those who love him work for their own 
everlasting good ! And we may safely believe that Peter's 
glory and bliss in heaven are greater this day because of 
his partial sinking that day in that deep and agitated water. 



i*t*r Jetting iov a (Sofa, 

Matthew, in the 17th chapter, relates an incident, very 
briefly and very artlessly, which I have always thought one 
of the most remarkable and stupendous miracles of which 
we have a record. Jesus was at Capernaum with his disci- 
ples, and at the same time tax gatherers, or receivers of cus- 
tom, were on their rounds. Finding Peter, and knowing 



128 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

him, they inquired if Jesus paid tribute. Peter told them 
that he did, and so the matter rested for the moment. 

Jesus at that time was in a house, resting, probably, after 
the fatigues of the day. After his interview with the re- 
ceivers of tribute Peter also went in, when his Master, 
knowing what was in his mind, "prevented him/' in the old 
English sense of that word, that is, anticipated him, as we 
would now express it, by asking — "What thinkest thou, 
Simon, of whom do the kings of the earth take custom or 
tribute? of their own children, or of strangers?" "Of 
strangers/ ' said Peter, "Then are the children free," said 
Jesus. "Notwithstanding, lest we should offend them, go 
thou to the sea and cast a hook, and take up the fish that 
first cometh up ; and when thou hast opened his mouth thou 
shalt find a piece of money; that take and give unto them 
for me and thee." 

In this incident we see the delightful familiarity with which 
Christ lived with his disciples. "What thinkest thou, Si- 
mon ?" — as though he would learn of him. He asked Simon 
a question which he knew he could answer correctly, and 
thus made him feel himself to be a companion and friend as 
well as a disciple. As such, Simon answered the question, 
and in the brief terms which the easiest familiarity warrants. 
May we not safely infer from this, that when it shall please 
him to call us to the place which he has prepared for us, 
where we shall see him as he is, that he will be our familiar 
friend and companion as well as our Lord ; for we read, 
"The Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed 
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters." 

We have here an affecting glimpse, as it were, of the pov- 
erty of our Lord. Although the earth was his and the full- 
ness thereof, yet during the days of his flesh he held his pro- 
prietorship in such total abeyance that he had neither where 
to lay his head, nor money wherewith to satisfy this little 



PETER FISHING FOR A COIN. 1 29 

claim. "Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became 
poor, that we, through his poverty, might be made rich." 

"Then are the children free/' said Jesus. What does 
that mean? It is an assertion of his own kingly character. 
It can be nothing less ; for certainly he was not a Roman 
citizen in any sense known to Roman law. Paul was, but 
Jesus was not. This, however, was no time or place to offer 
that plea for exemption from tribute. Moreover, he chose 
in this, as he did in all things, to be like unto his brethren — 
subject to their burdens as well as their sinless infirmities. 

So far we have seen the social kindness and lowliness of 
the "Man of sorrows.' ' Now turn we to the grandeurof the 
almighty, omnipresent, all-knowing God. 

One little piece of money was all that he needed; but he 
had it not. To supply this want, for once, and. only 
once, he laid tribute upon his own all-comprehending do- 
minions. "The earth (says the Psalmist) is full of riches , 
so is this great and wide sea." In some way, as men say, 
accidentally, a piece of money, just the amount required, 
had been dropped into the Sea of Galilee. Perchance it 
had lain there for years. Jesus sent a fish to pick it up and 
keep it in its mouth; for that was where Peter was told to 
look for it. This fish was then sent to the spot where Peter's 
hook should sink deep beneath the surface of the water, so 
as to be the first that should be caught. Every part of the 
complicated miracle is strangely at variance with the ordin- 
ary laws of nature, and manifested at once the omniscience, 
omnipresence and almighty power of Christ, showing us that 
all nature, and all events, the vast and the minute, the do- 
main of what we call accident or chance, as well as the 
movements of the most intractable and unteachable of liv- 
ing creatures, are all perfectly under his direction and con- 
trol. 

•How good and how pleasant a thing it is to contemplate 



I30 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

our glorious Elder Brother in the strongly contrasted colors 
of this picture, this gem, given us by the inspired historian ! 
On the one hand we see the loving and familiar Friend, 
meek and lowly in heart, and poor. On the other, we be- 
hold him glorious in power, doing wonders, at the contem- 
plation of which we tremble and adore. The glory is bright- 
er for the darkness of the shading ; yet as we turn from one 
to the other we know not which most to admire. 



(SUmmtitx oi leguas* 

A right conception of the character of Jesus Christ is 
essential to the formation of the Christian character in 
ourselves; for we can only become like him by seeing 
him as he is. It is true that in this imperfect state we only 
see through a glass darkly, while in heaven we shall see him 
face to face, and know even as we are known. Yet even 
here it is possible to have right conceptions of him, how- 
ever feeble they may be. But we may have wrong and dis- 
torted views; and so far as they are erroneous and distorted, 
in a like degree will our own characters as Christians be 
distorted. 

The great foundation truths, that he is the Son of God, 
and that he is both divine and human, need not be argued 
here. This stupendous mystery is received by faith alone. 
It is a truth so high that our intellectual powers cannot 
grasp or explain it. "He that hath seen me hath seen the 
Father/' is a declaration so plain that it cannot be misin- 
terpreted; and yet so profound that reason folds her wings 
in utter impotency, and faith alone can deal with it. 

But it is not in the midst of these high mysteries that we 
are to discover the character of Christ. This is best seen in 
his humble, simple, e very-day intercourse with his disciples, 



CHARACTER OF JESUS. I3 1 

his brethren, and with his fellowmen, both friendly and un- 
friendly, good and bad, as it is graphically portrayed by the 
four evangelists. 

In the epistle to the Hebrews we find these words : " Jesus 
Christ the same yesterday, to-day, and forever." The cir- 
cumstances by which he was surrounded, when those bless- 
ed feet trod the soil of Judea, Galilee and Samaria in weari- 
ness and want, as he went about doing good, and now 
when seated on the eternal throne, are very different in- 
deed ; but that change of circumstances does not change his 
character. That remains, as the apostle expresses it, the 
same yesterday, and to-day, and forever. Men could not 
see it ; but he was just as glorious that day when he sat 
down weary, travel-worn and thirsty by Jacob's well at 
Sychar, as he is this day amid the splendors of heaven. 

"I am meek and lowly in heart," is his own testimony 
of himself; and we read in confirmation of this testimony 
that the poor, the ignorant, the sick, the lame, the blind, 
and the sin-burdened, clustered around him eagerly and 
without dread,' and not one was sent away unblest. Even 
lepers came boldly and were made clean by his word or his 
touch. With unparalleled patience he bore with the dull- 
ness and faults of his chosen twelve, treating them always as 
friends and brethren. He bore the scoffs and slanders of 
his bitter enemies and the contradiction of sinners so meek- 
ly, that low and gross minds take the impression that he 
lacked courage and spirit. But let any one into whose 
mind the notion has come that Jesus was weak and effemin- 
ate, or too gentle for wrath against obstinate wickedness, 
read Matthew's twenty-third chapter, in which he thunders 
tremendous denunciations against the Scribes and Pharisees 
to thei r faces. We read in the Revelation of u the wrath of 
the Lamb;" and in these awful words we have that wrath 
fearfully expressed. So humble, so meek, so mild, so ap- 



132 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

proachable, so sweetly social was Christ while on earth, that 
Mary sat at his feet and learned ; little children were clasped 
in his arms and blessed ; and blind Bartimeus vociferously 
shouted to him as he passed by, and was restored to sight. 
Though lowly as the lowest, humbler than the humblest, 
yet hear him exclaim, "Behold a greater than Solomon is 
here !" Amid all this lowliness and social kindness, this 
poverty, toil and sorrow, never for a moment did he abate 
his infinite dignity and his immeasurable claims upon the 
love and devotion of mankind. Hear him: "He that 
loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of 
me." 

God took our nature and became like us, sin excepted, 
that we might be made like him by contemplating him as 
he is ; and it is by studying him in the simple portraiture 
given us by the evangelists — not looking at him afar off, 
but coming near and viewing him closely — that we can hope 
to see him as he is, and to be made like him. 



Jaitft, Mxm fort Mmpxtw* 

Several days had passed since the dreadful tragedy on 
Calvary. The disciples were perplexed and discouraged. 
Early on the morning of the third day some faithful and 
loving women gave the report that the Lord had risen from 
the dead ; but their story fell upon. the ears of these despond- 
ing men as an idle tale. 

That afternoon two of them had occasion to go to the 
village of Emmaus, about eight miles from Jerusalem. Luke 
relates this narrative with his characteristic simplicity and 
pathos. He tells us that as they walked they communed 
together, and that a kind stranger who joined them inquired, 
"What manner of communications are these that ye have 






FAITH, TRUE BUT STAGGERING. 1 33 

one to another as ye walk and are sad?" We can easily 
imagine the tenor of their conversation from the few words 
which the writer gives. They would talk of their slain 
Prophet, and rehearse his mighty deeds and his matchless 
words, and then recall with amazement and profound de- 
jection his apparent weakness when seized by his enemies. 
Perhaps they had heard the cruel taunt, — '• He saved oth- 
ers ; himself he cannot save !" — and the truth of the dread- 
ful words would go like iron into their souls. 

Their patriotic hopes were all dashed. Their ambitious 
dreams of promotion in the Messiah's earthly kingdom, 
when, by his divine power, he should break the Roman 
yoke from the neck of Israel, and reign as a mighty poten- 
tate, were all shivered to atoms, and they found themselves 
scattered, orphaned, dispirited and forsaken, while Rome's 
power remained just as it was. To them everything was 
gloomy in the extreme. 

But still there was a faint and bewildering glimmer of 
light. The story told by the women, although they did not 
believe it, might possibly.be true; and from the remark of 
one of them about that being the third day since their 
Lord's death, we may infer that they had some recollection 
of what he had said should happen on that day. They were 
therefore perplexed, but not in absolute despair ; cast down, 
but not destroyed, 

In this condition the kind stranger joined them and in- 
troduced himself by asking the sympathizing question al- 
ready quoted. 

"Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, " exclaimed the 
simple hearted Cleopas, "and hast not known the things 
which are come to pass there in these days?" 

"What things?'' rejoined their unknown friend; thus 
leading them on to more confidential communications. 
Then Cleopas opened his whole heart to him, and told him 

12 



134 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

of Jesus of Nazareth, "a prophet mighty in deed and word 
before God and all the people" of his condemnation and 
crucifixion, and of the report brought by the women of his 
having risen from the dead. Those noble, honest hearts 
were still true to their Lord ; and with inimitable pathos 
they confessed their former hope : " We trusted that it had 
been he which should have redeemed Israel." As long as 
Jesus was in the world, both before and after his death, that 
fond notion of Israel's redemption from political bondage 
clung to them; and even up to the hour of his ascension to 
heaven it was cherished; for on the Mount of Olives, just 
before he ascended, they ventured to ask, " Lord, wilt thou 
at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel ?" 

But let us return to the road to Emmaus, and hear again 
the confession of an almost lost hope — "We trusted that it 
had been he which should have redeemed Israel." Was 
that hope founded upon true faith ? Certainly it was, and 
was only wrong as to the manner and extent of that re- 
demption. He had redeemed Israel — not that little, unbe- 
lieving, subjugated Israel which rejected their own Messiah 
but that greater spiritual Israel, whose citizenship is in heav- 
en, and who shall be gathered from the east and the west, 
the north and the south, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac 
and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. 

This fondly cherished notion of a restored Israel, of an 
earthly kingdom grander than the world had ever seen, 
stood for a long time as a bar in the minds of these disci- 
ples to a right conception of the earthly mission of Christ. 
And it is well for all who come after them that they were 
so dull of comprehension — that their minds were so pre- 
occupied with a mistaken hope. Their slowness to believe in 
the resurrection of the Lord Jesus greatly strengthens our 
confidence in the truth of the narrative. 

The kind stranger listened with sympathetic interest to 



FAITH, TRUE BUT STAGGERING. 135 

the sad recital of the tragic end of Jesus of Nazareth, that 
great and good prophet around whom their hopes of Israel's 
redemption had clustered. Then he suddenly burst forth 
in a strain of eloquence and power that made their hearts 
burn within them. "Ought not Christ to have suffered these 
things, and to enter into his glory? And beginning at 
Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all 
the Scriptures the things concerning himself." 

Still they did not know him. How long he talked we 
know not; but we do know that he turned in with them in 
the village, and that at their evening meal " he took bread 
and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them," just as he had 
done on the evening in which he was betrayed; "and their 
eyes were opened, and they knew him." And we know from 
their own words how they were affected and comforted by 
his discourse on the road — " Did not our hearts burn within 
us while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened 
to us the Scriptures?" 

They would not be able to make out exactly how it was ; 
but they knew enough to dissipate their gloom. "The 
Lord is risen indeed," was now an assured fact, and that 
was enough to give them peace and joy. But what he 
would do next was to them unknown. The notion of that 
kingdom did rise up again in their imagination, as we know 
from the question they asked just before he ascended. In- 
deed it was not until the great effusion of the Holy Spirit 
on the day of Pentecost that these men rose to a true and 
correct conception of the mission of the Son of God to this 
world, and of the spirituality and universality of his king- 
dom. 

But this mistake, this error of conception, did not vitiate 
their faith. To a greater or less extent we are all in the 
same condition; for our highest and clearest conceptions 
fall infinitely below the reality of these things. On the 



I36 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

day of Pentecost these disciples were only lifted to a higher 
plane. From that plane the Christian church started; and 
not until they follow their risen Lord to his Father and 
their Father will one still higher be reached by those who 
believe in his name. 



$immt Qtttv't Jfeftfog iarttj- 

Peter, although only a fisherman on the sea of Galilee, 
was a genuine sailor, bold, impulsive, rough, but thorough- 
ly honest. He lacked steadiness of character and persist- 
ence of purpose. Still his intellectual and moral nature 
were what may be termed strong, and this strength gave 
him great physical courage and self-reliance. The positive 
declarations, " Though all men should deny thee, yet will 
not I," and again, "I will follow thee to prison and to death/' 
and again, "I will lay down my life for thy sake," show at 
once the ardor of his affection for his Lord, and his ex- 
cessive self-reliance; while his readiness to fight when the- 
guard, led by the traitor, came to arrest his Lord, attested 
his physical courage. Rad his Master not stopped him in 
his rashness on that occasion, very likely he would have 
made one of his declarations good — he would have laid 
down his life for his sake, or thrown it away. 

But Peter, brave even to rashness as he was, lacked mor- 
al courage; for only a few hours after he had attacked sin- 
gle handed a band of police officers, and the attendant rab- 
ble, he quailed and cowered beneath the scorn and ridicule 
of the idle hangers-on at the high priest's palace. It is not 
likely that Peter was under any apprehension of personal 
danger ; but the trouble was that he could not bear a sneer. 
It was on this occasion that his old rough character burst 
out afresh — " He began to curse and swear." 



SIMON PETER'S FISHING PARTY. 1 37 

That was a fearful storm of temptation ; and but for the 
interposition of that arm which is mighty to save, his frail 
bark would have capsized and he would have' gone to the 
bottom. His faith, however, failed not; and deep and bit- 
ter repentance quickly followed his shameful sin. 

Peter was a man of strong impulses and equally strong 
prepossessions. He thought, in common with the great 
body of the Jews, that when the Messiah came he would re- 
store the kingdom to Israel, and raise the nation to a height 
of glory and power to which it had never before attained ; 
so that his devotion to his Great Master was as much a pat- 
riotic as a religious sentiment. We see this in the sad lan- 
guage of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, where 
they are telling, as they supposed, to a kind stranger and 
fellow-traveler the mournful tale of the death of Jesus of 
Nazareth, wherein they say, " We trusted that it had been 
he which should have redeemed Israel." And again, the 
very day that he ascended to heaven, not knowing what was 
just about to take place, they ventured to ask him, "Lord, 
wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?" 
This notion clung to the minds of the disciples all the time . 
that Jesus was personally present with them ; both before 
and after his resurrection. 

For a time the disciples were slow to believe that Jesus 
had really risen from the dead. To minds less broken down 
the testimony might have been sufficient ; but to them the 
events of the past few days had been so overwhelmingly 
disastrous that they could not believe, or even hope. The 
wondrous report of the women who had been early at the 
sepulchre and had seen the Lord was not fully credited. 
They might have been deceived. Their own observation 
had proved to them that his body was gone. Even he him- 
self had shown himself to them, at Emmaus, and at their 
secret meeting, "the doors being shut." Yet still they 

12* 



I38 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

doubted. Superstition, like thick darkness, struggled in 
their souls with the light of truth, and thus their de 
sponding spirits were fearfully perturbed. Poor Thomas, 
more cast down than any of the others, declared that even 
the evidence of his own eyes and ears would be insufficient 
to convince him. Nothing short of the sense of touch 
would suffice. " Except I see in his hands the print of the 
nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe. " 

This slowness of the disciples to credit the great crown- 
ing fact of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus is very re- 
markable. We may, however, without irreverence, believe 
that the author of evil was permitted to fill their minds 
with despondency and unbelief, and tempt them to repel 
as long as they could this glorious truth, so that be- 
lievers of all after ages should have fuller assurance that the 
Lord did indeed rise from the dead. Had they received 
without doubt or questioning the first report, we who live 
long afterwards might be tempted to doubt their testimony, 
and conclude that the wish was father tu the thought. But 
God so ordered things that their unbelief tends to the 
strength and confirmation of our faith. 

But the risen Lord acted, as they would suppose, strange- 
ly. Only occasionally, and momentarily, as it were, did he 
meet with them. They could neither tell whence he came 
nor whither he went. He was evidently the same kind, 
loving Master they had known so long ; yet his conduct was 
very mysterious. Not a word is spoken of that visible 
kingdom of which they had so fondly dreamed. Day after 
day passes, yet they receive no mission. What will he do 
next ? was, we may suppose, the question that would per- 
petually press upon their hearts; but Jesus takes his own 
time to answer it. He must first lead them through this 
dark valley. Satan has not yet sifted them sufficiently. 



simon peter's fishing party. 139 

It was while the minds of the disciples were in this per- 
turbed condition 5 tossed to and fro by the great adversary; 
tempted to conclude that all for which they had so fondly 
hoped had proved delusive, and that there was nothing left 
for them but to return to their former avocations, that Si- 
mon Peter uttered the deeply significant words, " I go a 
fishing" and his six companions on that occasion so prompt- 
ly responded, "We also go with thee." This was the low- 
est depth of despondency to which it pleased the Lord to 
suffer them to sink, the darkest place in that gloomy valley 
through which he was leading them into the glorious light 
of his kingdom. Trace, now, with one sweep of thought, 
the rapid transition of Peter from this sad and gloomy mo- 
ment to that pentecostal day, when he stood before the peo- 
ple of Israel in more than an angel's glory and power, and 
gave the first great blast of the gospel trumpet. 

They did go. Those old fishing vessels — ships, as the 
evangelists call them — which they had abandoned months 
and years before to follow Jesus, were still afloat, and still 
belonged to Peter and his partners. With strange and agi- 
tated feelings they would step on board, push out into the 
sea, and arrange their long deserted nets. But during what 
remained of that day, and all that night, they toiled in vain. 
Again and again were the nets cast, yet not a fish was en- 
closed. 

At length the dawn of another day broke over the east- 
ern hills, when our fishermen, weary, hungry, dispirited and 
sad, sought the land. Through the dim light they saw a 
man standing upon the shore, as if awaiting their approach. 
He hailed them in tones of kindness, and asked, ' ' Children, 
have ye any meat?" They answered him "No." Such 
kind inquiries, and such endearing terms as " children, " 
were not unusual in the East. As yet they did not know 
that it was Jesus. Perhaps their weary frames, disap- 



140 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

pointed hopes, and troubled consciences had rendered them 
a little sullen, and hence their sententious reply to the 
kind inquiry of the stranger. The truth is, these men had 
got off the path, as Christian and Hopeful did just before 
they fell into the clutches of giant Despair and were locked 
up in Doubting Castle. But their Deliverer came just in 
time, as he always does; for "having loved his own he lov- 
ed them to the end." The great enemy, who was permit- 
ted to try them sorely, as expressed in the tremendous fig- 
ure of the Saviour, "to sift them as wheat," was not able to 
pluck them out of his hand. 

Now we shall see Jesus apply the key to the door of 
Doubting Castle. "Cast the net," said the stranger, "on 
the right side of the ship, and ye shall find." They cast it, 
and instantly it was full of great fishes. The remembrance 
of the miracles they had witnessed in the days when they 
walked with the Master, as he went about doing good, 
would at once rush through their minds and break in upon 
their gloom. John, quicker of apprehension than Peter — 
for these two seem to have been standing together — ex- 
claimed, "It is the Lord I" 

Peter's impulsive nature here showed itself more than in 
any former incident of his life. The words of his gentler 
companion set his whole soul on fire, as would an electric 
spark. Every faculty of his intellectual and moral nature, 
all the powers of his great, warm, honest heart, would re- 
spond, a It is the Lord ! It is the Lord !" Regardless of 
the splendid prize enclosed in his net, and forgetful of his 
duty to secure it, he girt his fisher's coat around him, plunged 
into the sea, and swam to his much loved Lord. 

It might be supposed that Peter, after having shamefully 
denied his Master, would have been among the last of these 
seven to come into that holy presence. But whoever thus 
judges has not yet fully learned the workings of true repent- 



SIMON PETER'S FISHING PARTY. T4I 

ance, faith and love. Very likely had he stood firm on that 
awful night on which his Master was betrayed, he would, 
on this occasion, as did the others, have stuck to his post 
until the miraculous draft of fishes was made secure. But 
the overwhelming consciousness of his abounding sin, and 
of the still more abounding grace of his Lord and Saviour, 
rendered this impossible. His act was dictated by his affec- 
tions alone. Reason and deliberate purpose had nothing to 
do with it. 

Of the first meeting of the Master and disciple we have 
no account. Presently the other disciples, by their united 
efforts, bring the full net to shore, and Peter returned and 
helped them to draw it up. Then they f and on the beach 
a fire of coals and fish laid thereon and bread, all provided 
by the good Master who had sought and found them in 
this trying hour. They were hungry, and he gave them 
meat ; they were in darkness, and he gave them light ; they 
were troubled, and he comforted them. With all the gen- 
tle kindness of a familiar friend he invited them to come 
and partake of the food he had prepared. Whether he him- 
self partook of it with them we are not informed. He did 
eat after his resurrection in the presence of his disciples, 
and it Js not improbable that he did so on this occasion. 

Having finished the repast, and the fishes being all se- 
cure, Jesus turned to Peter with the solemn yet tender 
question, " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than 
these ?" Had we been there and seen the Lord when he 
uttered these words; had we seen his gesture and the glance 
of his eye, we could easily have understood what he meant 
by "more than these;" but having only the words, we can 
give to them three distinct interpretations. All three have 
been given and stoutly maintained, thus: 

1. Lovest thou me more than thou lovest these thy fellow 
disciples and partners in business? 



142 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH, 

2. Lovest thou me more than thou lovest thy ships and 
nets now lying before us ? 

3. Lovest thou me more than these thy brethren love me ? 
In view of all the circumstances of the case — the rash and 

hasty resolve, expressed tersely but most emphatically in 
the words, "I go arching;'' in view of the beautiful lake 
where he had spent his early days, and which certainly had 
strong attractions; in view of the glorious "haul" they had 
just made, and which was enough to arouse all the old en- 
thusiasm of this ardent fisherman, I think the Saviour point- 
ed to the water, the ships and the fishes when he asked the 
question, and not to the other disciples. As for the third 
interpretation, I cannot see how any good man could for a 
moment suppose that the kind and gentle Jesus would in- 
dulge in a cruel taunt, for it would have been nothing else. 
Peter, it is true, had boasted; but he honestly believed all 
that he said. He was too self-reliant. Strong as he was, 
he was more like an inexperienced child than any of the 
twelve. But he had the genuine stuff in him, and Jesus knew 
it and let all know that he knew it when he gave him the new 
name of Peter, a rock. He was a rough block when the 
Divine Artist took him out of the quarry, and no little 
hammering was required to bring out his inherent beauties. 
But it was done. Up to the time of which we are speaking 
men might have said of him, as the dying patriarch said of 
his son Reuben, " Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel;" 
but Peter did excel. In no character of whom we read do 
we find a more striking example of the transforming, enno- 
bling power of Divine Grace than in that of Simon, son of 
Jonas, the rough fisherman of the Sea of Galilee. 

Note.— This subject is continued at page 159, under the head, "Lovest ThouMe?" 



EVERY-DAY FAITH. 1 43 

<$*wjj-fo»i! Jaitft. 

" As thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee." 

The story of the centurion who applied to Jesus to heal 
his sick servant, is full of interest and instruction, and sets 
forth a principle in the divine government as no didactic 
teaching can do. The faith of this man surpassed that of 
any other of whom we have any account. Even Jesus him- 
self marveled and said to them that followed, " Verily I say 
unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel." 

In his reply to the centurion Jesus lays down a great and 
universal principle which runs through all God's dealings 
with his people, in these words, "As thou hast believed, 
so be it done unto thee. ,, How did the centurion believe ? 
His own words will best explain; " Speak the word only, 
and my servant shall be healed.' ' His persuasion of the 
Lord's ability was full and unconditioned; and he illus- 
trated his idea of Christ's authority over the powers of 
Nature, of which his servant's illness was a part, by his own 
authority as a military officer over well disciplined soldiers. 
None finer or more striking could have been given. Jesus 
called this faith the greatest he had found ; yet it had, so 
far as it was expressed, no reference to any doctrine or 
dogma, nor did it reach to the salvation of the soul, or to 
the world to come. It was specific and concrete, and yet 
it was great. It was confident trust, and could only spring 
from a heart in which the Holy Spirit had taken up his 
abode. 

" Speak the word and my servant shall live." That word 
of power was spoken, whether audibly or not we do not 
know, further than the words above written — " As thou hast 
believed, so be it done unto thee." But the noble believer 
went home satisfied, and found that his servant, whom he 



144 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

loved so clearly, had been cured that very hour. He found 
that he had not overrated the power of the Son of God. 
Thus he experienced, what every strong believer through all 
the ages has experienced — joy and peace. 

Now, let us look, by way of contrast, at another case. 
Jairus was a good man and a kind and affectionate father. 
He, too, had a sick one at home — not a servant, but a little 
daughter — just at the age when daughters twine themselves 
most strongly around a father's heart. As Jairus was a ruler 
of a synagogue, very likely he had seen Jesus healing sick 
people ; so the thought, the hope, crept into his mind that 
he could heal his daughter, too, if he could only be induced 
to come to his house and lay his hands upon her. Some- 
times Jesus did heal in that way. Sometimes he only spoke to 
the sick one, as, for example, the paralytic who was let down 
through the tiling. At other times he healed persons at a 
distance, as in the case of which we have just been speaking. 
But very likely Jairus had only seen cases where he laid on 
his hands. He had faith, but it was feeble. He was per- 
suaded that Christ had power ; but his conception was low 
and narrow when compared with that of the centurion. He 
seems to have been a man of forms and ceremonies, and 
had a preconceived notion as to how the blessing he so 
greatly desired could come, and that notion is expressed in 
his prayer to the Master, " My little daughter liet.h at the 
point of death \ I pray thee come and lay thy hands on her 
that she may be healed, and she shall live." He not only 
asked for the great boon, but he prescribed the process 
through which it should come. 

Jesus took this man at his word, and said, in action, but 
not in words, " As thou hast believed, so be it done unto 
thee;" for he went with him. But he was interrupted and 
delayed on the way by the poor woman who pressed through 
the crowd to touch his garment, and was thereby healed of 



EVERY-DAY FAITH. 145 

a sad chronic malady, and then sent away with a benedic- 
tion. She, too, was dealt with as she believed. Meantime 
the sick girl continued to suffer and to sink, until she ex- 
pired. Then an agitated messenger is sent in haste to the 
poor father with the message, " Thy daughter is dead ; 
trouble not the Master. " " Too late ! ' ' would be the despair- 
ing cry in the father's heart, until Jesus gently whispered, 
<( Be not afraid; only belie vej" then calmly continued his 
walk to the house to which he was going with life and joy 
and salvation. We all know the sequel. The daughter was 
quickly restored to life and health, and doubtless that family 
became believers in Jesus. 

But the point I wish to bring out is this, that it was done 
to both these men just as they believed. The one had a 
sublime trust in the power of Christ, no matter how distant 
he might be from the subject of that power, and no matter 
how it might be put forth. The other, by thrusting in his 
own poor notions and prescriptions as to how the thing 
could or should be done, subjected himself to great mental 
anguish, almost despair, and his beloved daughter to pro- 
longed suffering, and even to death. As he believed, so it 
was done unto him. 

" But it ended well." So it did, and so did the pilgrim- 
age of Little Faith of whom Bunyan tells us. A stronger 
faith, however, would have given him a happier and more 
useful life, a brighter crown, and brought more glory to his 
Lord and Master. As he believed, so it was done unto him ; 
and hence his doubts and fears, his clouds and darkness, his 
weakness and inefficiency, so that he had hard work to get 
through at all. 

"I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel!" ex- 
claimed the Saviour in amazement. But what was that faith ? 
Was it a belief in the saving doctrines of the gospel ? Not 
at all ; although something Kke this may have underlain the 

*3 



146 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

faith which was so highly commended. It was a full and 
grand feeling and expression of confidence in the person of 
Christ, and in his power and willingness to give him the 
particular blessing which he needed at that moment. He 
asked nothing for himself, but only for the life and health 
of a humble and beloved friend. His prayer was as simple 
and specific as was that of Peter when he was sinking in the 
water, and cried, "Lord, save me I" or that of Bartimeus, 
when he cried, " Lord, that I may receive my sight !" 

Jesus — when with a word he had calmed the wind and the 
sea, and then rebuked his disciples for their lack of faith — 
made no allusion to their lack of doctrinal belief, or of hope 
of ultimate salvation, but only to their want of trust in his 
power to save them from the physical danger which they 
had just been in. This is the kind of faith which Jesus in- 
sists upon so much all through his teachings. Of the wants 
and cares of every-day life, see how he talks in Matt. vi. 25 
to the end ; and when in the same chapter, he teaches us to 
pray, the very first petition we are to ask for ourselves is, 
" Give us this day our daily bread.' ' This kind of faith we 
need continually, just as we need our breath continually. 
Having that, we are perfectly safe. It is written, " Trust 
in the Lord and do good, so shalt thou dwell in the land, 
and verily thou shalt be fed." Again : "I have been young 
and now am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, 
nor his seed begging bread." Again : "I will trust and not 
be afraid." And again: "Your Father knoweth that ye 
have need of these things;" and so on in a hundred other 
places. 

On the other hand, when we, by an act of saving faith, enter 
into covenant with God, we commit to him the keeping of 
our souls as unto a faithful Creator. It is like having 
our title deed recorded — our record made safe and fixed on 
high. Paul, in his second epistle to Timothy, expresses this 



EVERY-DAY FAITH. 147 

thought beautifully : " I know whom I have believed, and 
am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have com- 
mitted unto him against that day." A sensible man who 
owns an estate, and who knows that his title is good, is not 
forever worrying himself about the record of it. He knows 
that that is all right. So ought the Christian to know that 
his title to mansions on high is clear, and keep his active 
faith for every-day use, just as Jesus teaches us to do. 

In the common things of life, as we believe so will it be 
done unto us, in a great measure. If we do not trust in 
God for common blessings, for those things which he knows 
we need, and if we feel and act as if we believed that 
things fall out pretty much by chance, and that we are 
driven about by the blind forces of Nature, why, as we be- 
lieve, so it will be unto us. The promise is to those who 
trust, not those who do not. There is not a doubt that 
there are many who have truly believed in Christ, and com- 
mitted their souls to his keeping, who yet, for want of this 
trust in God for little common things, get themselves into 
great trouble and sometimes sore perplexity, as poor Jairus 
did with his low and restricted notions of Christ's power. 
He had it all planned. If he could only be persuaded to 
go to his house, and then if he would lay his hands 
upon his sick child, she would not die, but recover ! Had 
he believed as the centurion believed, and prayed as he 
prayed, he would have been sent back to his home with his 
heart at rest, to be greeted by his restored child in perfect 
health. 

But unbelief replies, "The days of miracles are passed." 
So they are ; but is the Holy One of Israel limited because 
miracles have ceased ? Does it require a miracle to give us 
our daily bread? or to preserve the life of a sparrow, so that 
it cannot fall to the ground until our Father please ? Is 
any miracle involved in thfise words of Jesus: " Consider 



148 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the lilies of the field how they grow ; they toil not, neither 
do they spin ; and yet I say unto you that Solomon in all 
his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if 
God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is and 
to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more 
clothe you, O ye of little faith ?" 

It is a sad fact that many who profess and call themselves 
Christians, and whose creed is unexceptionally orthodox, live 
without practical faith and trust in God, so far as the things 
of life are concerned; and as they believe, so it is done 
unto them. Like the utterly unbelieving, they are left to 
drift where the blind forces of Nature, or what the world 
calls accident and chance, may drive them, because so far 
as these things are concerned their feet are not set upon a 
rock. 



In the narrative of the poor woman who touched the 
Saviours garment in the crowd, and was by that means 
cured of an inveterate and distressing malady, we find 
many topics for profitable reflection. We see in it a dis- 
play of the power, goodness, and omniscience of Christ. In 
the woman we see true faith, mingled with much weakness 
and sinful fear. 

The Saviour was walking in the highway, going to the 
house of Jairus to heal his daughter, and was dispensing di- 
vine instruction to the multitude who crowded around him. 
Among them was a pale, melancholy female, agitated with 
a new hope of recovery from an incurable malady. Too 
timid to make an open application to the Great Physician, 
she resolved to take, as it were by stealth, that healing 
virtue which she so much needed. Eagerly, with spas- 



CONFESSING CHRIST. 149 

modic energy, she pressed forward, until with her hand 
she could reach his garment. She touched it. Instantly 
her feelings made known the great fact that she was re- 
stored to health. A trembling hope gave place to exulting 
joy. 

But suddenly Jesus stops, and demands, "Who touched 
my clothes?'' His disciples think it a strange question, 
for they immediately reply, " Thou seest the multitude 
thronging thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me ?" But 
the accidental touch of the multitude was nothing. Neither 
he nor they were affected by it. There was no inherent 
virtue in his clothes, any more than in other clothes. But 
the woman's touch was an act of faith, and as such it met 
its appropriate reward. Whether any superstition mingled 
with her faith is not for us to inquire. Possibly there did ; 
yet He who "knoweth our frame, who remembereth that 
we are dust," pardoned and accepted the poor supplicant, 
for such she was. 

Why did Jesus ask, "Who touched me?" Could he be 
ignorant of that? Surely nQt. He saw the first rising of 
this thought in the woman's heart. He had observed all 
her movements as no one else could observe them. But he 
asked the question because this woman, who had secured a 
great blessing, had not confessed him before men, and, for 
aught we know, did not intend to do so. If ever there was 
a case where this might have been permitted, we might sup- 
pose this was that case. But no ; this could not be per- 
mitted. The Saviour was inflexible. His eye ranged over 
the multitude until it rested upon the timid, trembling 
object of his search, when she rushed forward, regardless of 
the sympathies or the sneers of those around her, fell down 
before him, and openly confessed all, acknowledged her 
obligation, and received from the lips of her great Bene- 
factor a blessing which would cause a purer thrill of joy than 

13* 



150 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the mere healing of her malady had given. " Daughter, " 
said he, — she has confessed him before men ; he already 
confesses her before his Father and the holy angels, and 
calls her by that endearing term — "Daughter, thy faith hath 
made thee whole ; go in peace, and be whole of thy 
plague." What majesty and kindness are here commingled ! 
. The loving kindness of a familiar, sympathizing friend is 
blended with the authority and power of the Almighty ! 
When that poor woman discovered that she was healed, 
she was glad, for she was greatly benefited ; but she could 
not have gone away in peace. Now, however, she rejoices 
with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. Her joy is no 
longer a selfish joy. By touching the Saviour's garment 
she received the healing virtue which she so much needed ; 
but by confessing him before men she received that peace 
which passeth all understanding. 

Often in after life would that woman think and speak of 
this interesting incident; and, could we hear her testimony, 
doubtless we should find that her strongest emotions of 
gratitude were excited because her Saviour would not per- 
mit her to depart without confessing him. 

This subject teaches how unwise it is to expect salvation 
by a secret faith, a hidden devotion. Most of our prayers 
and communion with God are, and ought to be, in secret; 
but if our light be worth anything it cannot be hid. The 
true believer will bear his humble testimony before the 
world, and can never find peace until he does so. He may 
have joy, the joy of pardoned sin ; but not peace. If his 
faith be genuine, he will be constrained to own his obliga- 
tions to his Saviour in the face of a scoffing, unbelieving 
world. 

To unite ourselves with the church of Christ is the com- 
mon form of confessing him before the world. Time was 
when to do so was a great cross. Its conditions were 



THE J.AST INTERVIEW. 151 

shame and contempt, often danger and death. But it is not 
so now. To join the church now is a reputable act, almost 
a fashionable one. No reproach, no loss, no danger, 
attaches to the act now. But in this very fact there is 
cause for d^ep searchings of heart. If we can confess 
Christ, and yet avoid the reproach of Christ, we may ap- 
prehend that something is wrong. " Is the offense of the 
cross ceased?" Are the terms of discipleship easier now 
than they were in the days of Christ and the apostles ? Oh, 
I fear that while many of us have professed to be Chris- 
tians, not so many have confessed Christ. If we have not 
his spirit, we are none of his. If we have, the world will hate 
us as it hated him. Our religion may be tc j lifeless, too 
tame, to excite the derision, reproach, or opposition that 
the early Christians met with. Why, if such people should 
appear in our day they would be stigmatized as enthusiasts 
and fanatics. 

What then ? Shall we court persecution ? By no means ; 
but rather bless God that we are exempted from it, provided 
that exemption does not arise from our conformity to the 
world; for remember it is written, " The world will love 
its own." But is there not reason to fear that the present 
apparent reconciliation between the church and the world 
arises more from the conformity of the church to the world 
than from that of the world to Christ ? 



lit* f$Mt itttttvfcw. 

The hearts of the disciples were filled with sorrow and 
dismay at the near approach of the loss of their beloved 
Master. He had more than once spoken to them in lan- 
guage intended to prepare their minds for the sad events 
that awaited them. But that any evil should befall him, or 



152 GATHERINGS IN £EULAH. 

them, while with him, was a thought which, m their love 
for him, and their fondly-cherished although unfounded 
hopes of his earthly reign, they resisted until the closing 
scenes of his life forced upon them the sad reality. 

In the language of the two disciples on the road to Em- 
maus we catch a glimpse of the early and long-cherished 
impression of the disciples : — " We trusted that it had been 
he which should have redeemed Israel/ ' Piety, patriotism, 
and personal ambition united in keeping dominant in their 
minds the idea that their Master, whom they firmly be- 
lieved to be the long-promised Messiah, would re-establish 
the throne of his father David, and reign forever over the 
kingdom of Israel, after having redeemed it from foreign 
bondage. But now they began to discover that in all these 
bright anticipations they had been mistaken. 

The thoughts of tiis own dreadful death seem to have 
been ever present to the mind of the Saviour. He foresaw 
all its anguish and its horrors, in reference to which he had 
said, "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and oh, how 
am I straitened until it be accomplished!" But still he 
sympathized deeply in the sorrows of his disciples, and 
looked forward with desire for a suitable occasion of min- 
istering to their comfort. Such an occasion was furnished in 
the observance of the last paschal supper. Then, in that 
upper room in Jerusalem, at the close of the sad and solemn 
feast, he rose and took bread, and brake it, and said, 
" Take, eat; this is my body which is broken for you.' 7 
In us, who are familiar with all the facts, and know the 
true import of these words, they excite no dismay. We 
behold the gloom and the glory at one view. But to them 
those words expressed chiefly violence and death. " Broken 
for you !" Awful and mysterious words ! After having 
long been dreaming of seats in an earthly kingdom, near 
the throne of their beloved Sovereign, to hear him speak of 



THE LAST INTERVIEW. 153 

his body being broken and his blood being shed for them, 
— how would it overwhelm them with astonishment and 
sorrow ! With these feelings they ate the bread and drank 
the wine ; and then he, seeing their affliction, poured forth 
those words of consolation recorded in the 14th, 15th and 
1 6th chapters of John, beginning, " Let not your heart be 
troubled.' ' But for that last blessed conversation the dis- 
ciples must have sunk into utter despondency. They loved 
their Master fervently \ they believed in him as the prom- 
ised Christ ; but as yet they did not understand the nature 
of his mission, or of the kingdom which he had come to 
establish. 

What a scene that was ! There stood the great Sufferer f 
crushed beneath the weight of the sins of a world, — a load 
which nothing short of infinite strength could sustain. 
The horrible tempest of Divine wrath is coming nearer and 
nearer. His innocent humanity shrinks in terror, and he 
exclaims, " Father, save me from this hour !■" But instantly 
he remembers his high mission, and adds, "but for this cause 
came I unto this hour." In that awful storm which was be- 
ginning to beat upon him were mingled the wrath of God, 
the cruelty of men, and the malice of devils. There sat 
the weak, trembling, perplexed, dispirited disciples. In 
his pity for them he seems for a time to forget his own sor- 
rows, and to cheer them he utters words full of encourage- 
ment and hope, and even of joy. His eye saw the gloom 
asjthey could not see it; but beyond the gloom he saw the 
glory that should follow. He saw the joy that was set be- 
fore him, and was content to endure the cross. He saw of 
the travail of his soul, and was satisfied. 

There he stood in their midst, in appearance not now so 
much that of a master as of a brother, a companion, and a 
friend. His language has in it not one desponding word. 
All is joy and triumph. Love dictates every sentence, 



154 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

every precept, every promise. His opening is tender and 
affectionate beyond example ; his close, the sublimity of 
triumph: — " Be of good cheer; I have overcome the 
world." 

In thinking of Jesus, we ought never to forget that he is 
" the same yesterday, to-day, and forever/' and that he was 
altogether as great and glorious in that upper chamber as 
he is amid the splendors of heaven. In the scene so well 
portrayed by the pen of the evangelist, we see him as he was, 
kind, affectionate, companionable, admitting his friends to 
the most intimate intercourse, and expressing by word and 
deed the greatest fondness for their company. (i l goto 
prepare a place for you; and if I go and prepare a 
place for you, I will come again and receive you unto 
myself, that where I am there ye may be also." And 
in that wonderful prayer which followed, these are his 
words: — " Father, I will that they also whom thou hast 
given me be with me where I am, that they may behold 
my glory." We may therefore safely conclude that Jesus 
has, and ever will have, an intense desire for the company 
and fellowship of his redeemed ones; and that in heaven 
we shall not worship him at an awful distance, but be ad- 
mitted to still closer intimacy than were his disciples in the 
days of his flesh In heaven we shall be more like him 
than they were. 

Jesus speaks of the period during which his disciples 
should not see him as " a little while;" and the same is 
true of all his people. A very minute portion of their ex- 
istence is spent in a state of absence from him. A few 
saw him on earth, — saw him for a little while, — and then for 
a little while they lost sight of him. But soon they were 
with him again, and will remain with him forever. "I will 
see you again," said he; for it was expedient for them that 
he should leave them for a little while. 



THE DENIAL OF PETER. 155 

"I will see you," he says to everyone who believes 
in him, to every one whom he has redeemed. In earnest 
prayer, he says, " I will that they be with me where I am." 
Of them it is written, "They shall see his face;" and 
John says, " We shall be like him, for we shall see him as 
he is." 

How good it would be for us could we rise to and main- 
tain a realizing sense of these glorious prospects ! Then 
could we obey the closing injunction of the blessed 
Saviour, when he says, "Be of good cheer; I have over- 
come the world." Such a faith would bear us above the 
cares, anxieties and temptations of the world ; but, better 
still, it would render us proof against the dangers arising 
from its riches and honors and pleasures. 



There is nothing better for the heart than the contem- 
plation of the Saviour's character, as it is drawn out and 
exhibited before us in his unparalleled trials. In so learn- 
ing Christ, we will do well to take a single incident at a 
time, rather than a succession of incidents. 

During that dreadful night in which he was betrayed, as 
narrated by the Evangelists, there are incidents enough set 
forth to show to us his whole character, — enough to occupy 
our thoughts forever. The tender and affecting scene in 
the upper chamber ; the consolatory and instructive fare- 
well address ; the prayer ; the agony in the garden ; the 
sleeping disciples ; the arrival of the band of soldiers ; the 
perfidious kiss ; the arrest ; the flight of the disciples ; the 
mock trial ; the crown of thorns ; the buffetings and in- 
sults of the cruel men by whom he was surrounded; and the 



156 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

denial of Peter. What a cluster of subjects for contempla- 
tion ! 

In meditating upon these things, the Christian will find his 
heart inclined to dwell upon one or another of the affecting 
incidents, according to the circumstances in which the 
providence of God has at the moment placed him. 

We propose now to dwell for a few moments upon one 
incident of that evei memorable night, which is equally af- 
fecting and instructive. We mean the denial of Peter. 

Peter loved his Master sincerely, passionately, vehe- 
mently ; and this love was met by the deep and unchange- 
able love of Jesus in a measure of which he only was capa- 
ble. What, then, must have been the agony of the 
Saviour's soul — for he had the natural affections of a man, a 
friend, a brother — when Peter, in that trying hour, denied 
him with cursing and bitterness ! "I know not the man !" 
exclaimed his unstable friend and disciple, and then added 
to perfidy and falsehood the further sin of gross profanity. 
Jesus heard these words; and of all the wounds inflicted 
upon his spirit that night this was the deepest and 
the keenest. The traitorous kiss of Judas, and the gross 
insults of the rabble and the soldiers, were nothing com- 
pared to those words of vehement, scornful, thrice-repeated 
denial from a bosom-friend. 

But he bore it all meekly. He did not withdraw his love 
and tender compassion from his faithless disciple. He knew 
the strength of his temptation; and his all-prevalent prayer 
preserved him from utter apostasy. He turned and looked 
upon Peter, and Peter remembered his words : his heart 
melted, his faith resumed its power in his heart, and his 
love revived and glowed more fervently than ever. 

That look was a look of love, of compassion and for- 
giveness. It spoke what tongue could not speak. It was 
not a frown, but a look of unutterable sorrow, tenderness 
and expostulation. 



THE DENIAL OF PETER. 157 

We, too, are sometimes wounded in the house of our 
friends. Words of bitterness, uttered by those we love, 
sometimes enter our hearts and burn like coals of juniper, 
causing us to endure the insufferable torture of a wounded 
spirit. At such times let us call to remembrance the meek- 
ness and unwavering love of Jesus when he was denied by 
him whose professions of attachment had been the most 
ardent of any: and in our feelings and conduct towards 
the offending party, let us try to imitate his example. 
Jesus, by a look of tenderness and compassion, broke 
Peter's heart, and caused copious tears of penitence to flow, 
leaving him a wiser, humbler, and better man. So may 
we, by doing likewise, restore to ourselves the alienated 
affections of our friends, whose words or actions, like dag- 
gers, may have pierced our souls. 

Had the Saviour resented the gross affront that was put 
upon him by Peter, even by a frown or reproachful word, 
he might have rendered him an enemy forever. So we, if 
we would save our offending friend, no matter how sorely 
he may have wounded us, must be the first to seek recon- 
ciliation. This is the way God does with sinners; this is 
the way Jesus did with Peter ; and in this, as in other 
things, we must follow his example. 

It is a law in moral philosophy, seen as well in the deal- 
ings of God with men and men with God, as in the deal- 
ings of man with man, that the offending party hates and 
shuns the offended ; and that if there ever be any true, 
lasting reconciliation, the first overture must come from 
the injured party. By nature we hate God. Why ? Be- 
cause we have injured him. God loves us, and seeks to be 
reconciled to us. Why ? Ah ! Christian, we must seek 
for the reason in his infinite goodness and mercy ; but the 
fact that he loves us and seeks to be reconciled to us shows 
us that this wonderful moral law of which we have been 

14 



158 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

speaking governs all moral beings, from the Infinite One, 
down to the feeblest of his rational creatures. 

This great truth, while it reveals to us God reconciling a 
world of rebels and enemies to himself, reveals to us our 
duty in some of the severest trials of the heart. 

Friend, has he in whom you confided been unfaithful or 
unkind, so that he has ceased to love you and you to love 
him ? Has he acted in such a manner that you feel justi- 
fied in casting him off? Do it not. Remember that his 
offense is not so great as was Peter's, and Jesus did not cast 
him off. 

Wife, has your husband offended you in word or injured 
you in deed ? Turn upon him a look of tenderness and 
love, as your Saviour did upon his erring disciple. Be- 
seech him to be reconciled to you, as God has besought 
you to be reconciled to Him. Do not indulge the vain 
hope, if through his injurious conduct your hearts have be- 
come alienated, that he will seek reconciliation It is not 
to be hoped for. It is contrary to the great law of man's 
moral nature. 

Husband, has your wife stung your heart with unkindness, 
with groundless accusations, with a withdrawal of her con- 
fidence, with words of wrath and bitterness, or in any way 
in which poor human nature may sin ? Oh, place a guard 
upon your heart, lest the same enemy which has led her 
captive seize also upon you ! Let your unchanging love 
call back your poor erring companion, as the love of Jesus 
rescued Peter. Had he waited until Peter should have re- 
pented and returned to his first love, he would have waited 
forever. 

These reflections might be extended indefinitely; but let 
this suffice. Our object is accomplished if we have suc- 
ceeded in setting forth this great law of our moral being, 
this all-important rule of action. 



"LOVEST THOU ME?" 159 

I feel inclined to return to that memorable incident 
so graphically narrated by John (chapter xxi.), when seven 
of the doubting and desponding disciples of the risen Lord 
went "a fishing" on the Sea of Galilee, toiled all night 
and caught nothing. We spoke of the Lord appearing 
on the shore early on the following morning; of the 
wonderful success he gave them; of the ardor of Peter 
when he discovered that it was his much loved Master who 
had come to seek them, as shown by his casting himself into 
the water and swimming to the shore ; of the morning re- 
past, so much needed after their night of toil ; and then of 
the solemn and pointed question of Jesus, "Simon, son of 
Jonas, lovest thou me more than these?" With a brief dis- 
cussion of the import of the words, "more than these," 
the article, (Simon Peter's Fishing Party), abruptly closed ; 
for to have proceeded further would have opened too wide 
a field of discussion for one essay. 

Thrice was the awful yet tender inquiry propounded, 
"Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" Once in the 
comparative sense, and twice in the absolute. Some com- 
mentators fancy that the question was put thrice because 
Peter had thrice denied his Lord. While it is possible that 
it may have been so, it is more curious than profitable to 
speak of this coincidence in number as if that inference 
were an established truth. 

Each time the main inquiry is couched in precisely the 
same terms, and each time the answer of Peter is in the same 
words — a bold, confident, yet humble appeal to the omnis- 
cience of Christ, that he did love him — " Yea, Lord, thou 
knowest that I love thee." The third time, instead of a 
simple "Yea, Lord," he expressed in emphatic language, 
what was only implied in his first two declarations, his own 



l6o GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

belief in the absolute omniscience of his Divine Master — 
"Lord, thou knowest all things , thou knowest that I love 
thee." 

Taking all the circumstances into view, this is one of the 
most extraordinary and instructive conversations that ever 
was recorded. It was only a few nights before that this 
same Peter thrice denied, in strong, bitter, and even pro- 
fane terms, that he knew Jesus. This was not done at 
a distance from his Master, but while looking at him as he 
stood apparently a helpless prisoner in the midst of his 
enemies. This denial involved in it almost all that we can 
conceive of falsehood, cowardice, meanness, cruelty, un- 
faithfulness and insult. Rarely indeed has Satan been per- 
mitted to get such a mastery over a good man. But ter- 
rible as was his fall, his faith failed not; for we read: " And 
the Lord turned and looked upon Peter; and Peter remem- 
bered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him 
1 before the cock crow thou shalt deny me thrice ;' and Peter 
went out and wept bitterly.' ' That look of admonition and 
pitying rebuke restored him to himself; and who can doubt 
but that those bitter tears were followed by a sweet yet sad 
and humbling sense of pardon. Not a mere hope of pardon, 
but a blessed assurance of it. 

Here it is that we must seek for a key to unlock the mys- 
tery of Peter's holy boldness on the occasion of which we 
are speaking. He was forgiven much ; he was lifted up 
from the lowest depths of self-abasement; therefore he 
loved much, and he knew it. The love which flows from 
such forgiveness as this cannot be a matter of conjecture, a 
mere peradventure, a subject of trembling hope ; but one 
of absolute certainty, of positive consciousness; hence 
Peter's impetuous haste to reach Jesus where he stood on the 
beach, and hence his confident language, thrice uttered, 
"Thou knowest that I love thee." Here we have a beauti 



"L0VEST THOU ME?" l6l 

ful picture of faith working by love ; and here we see the 
sweet and blessed assurance to which every Christian may 
attain; for surely if a man who had sinned as deeply as 
Peter had done was able to utter such language as this in 
the presence of the Searcher of hearts, there is no reason 
why any believer should be debarred from the same high 
privilege. 

It would have cast a sad and gloomy cloud over this 
beautiful narrative, over the lesson which it teaches, and 
the hopes which it inspires and warrants, had Peter only 
been able to have answered — as too many genuine believers 
who live below their privileges do — " I hope that I do love 
thee." Ah ! for our encouragement, for our instruction, 
for our comfort and peace, and for our growth in grace, 
the Holy Spirit guided Simon son of Jonas to a better 
answer than that ; and better still, to persist in the utter- 
ance of the same words three times, although knowing and 
feeling that just then the piercing eye of Omniscience was 
looking down into the depths of his soul. 

Christians, — every one of you who may read these words, 
— the Master is standing before you asking the same question 
in the same loving and familiar manner — calling you by 
name, as he did Simon. Can you give him the same an- 
swer ? or can you only say you hope you do love him, or 
that you are trying to do so ? Now let us try the same prin- 
ciple on a lower plane. Suppose a noble, kind and affec- 
tionate husband were to put the same question to the part- 
ner of his life, and get " I hope so," or " I try to do so," 
for an answer, how would he feel about it? Would so 
cold, so doubtful, so half-hearted a reply be satisfactory? 
Ananias and Sapphira, who kept back part of the possession, 
might have safely gone that far, and doubtless did; but 
for those who, like Peter, have made a full surrender of 
their hearts to Christ, to be unable to give the same answer 

14* 



162 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

that he did, is a self-inflicted wrong. " The joy of the Lord 
is your strength," says the Bible ; and that joy can only co- 
exist with the assurance of that mutual love which makes 
Christ and his people one. 

Many truly love Christ, yet are not sure of it. This is 
strange, but it is true. Their loss is great ; for all their 
graces are weakened in their exercise by this doubt. It is 
one form of unbelief, and has its spring in a spurious humil- 
ity, arising from that legal spirit which clings so strongly to 
human hearts, causing them to feel that they are too un- 
worthy to venture to indulge in such assured convictions or 
utterances. If any man might have shut himself out of this 
high privilege on the score of personal unworthiness, Peter 
was that man ; but not a word does he utter about that. 
The heinousness of his sin, now that he knows that it is 
pardoned, only makes him love the more and be more 
conscious of the fact. 

It is well worthy of special notice, that there is no inti- 
mation in any of the gospel narratives that Jesus, in their 
subsequent intercourse, ever upbraided Peter for that shame- 
ful denial, or made the slightest illusion to it. What a 
glorious example is that to us ! and what a cheering com- 
mentary this fact is upon that Old Testament promise, 
" Their sins and iniquities will I remember no more!" 
Tradition tells us that, ever after that awful night of the 
denial, the crowing of a cock caused Peter to weep. It 
may have been so ; but if so, it did not take away the 
sweet assurance and comfort that he loved Jesus ; and none 
ever better portrayed that love than he, when he wrote — 
4 * Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now 
ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeak- 
able and full of glory. " 



JESUS AS A TEACHER. 1 63 

There is not so much bald infidelity in the world now 
as there was thirty years ago ; but skepticism has made, and 
is yet making, fearful advances. 

Infidelity boldly and squarely denies a divine revelation ; 
skepticism does not deny, but suggests doubts and difficul- 
ties. The one comes as an open and avowed antagonist of 
the system of Christian faith, by taking the ground that the 
Scriptures are of no more authority than the writings of 
Confucius, or of the sacred books of the Brahmins; the 
other comes in the garb of a philosophical inquirer, digging 
about the foundations, and, by telling us all about the .fix- 
edness and immutability of Nature's laws, starts doubts as 
to the possibility of such intercourse between the Creator 
and his creature man as the Scriptures tell us of. Nature, 
material nature, combined with what we are capable by our 
own resources of finding out about mind, is made to testify 
that the universe, the cosmos, operates by its own laws and 
through inherent forces, and that it is unphilosophical to 
believe that the Creator is perpetually interfering with and 
superintending the working of this all-perfect system. 

Skepticism is not dogmatic, or at least professes not to be 
so, but is simply an inquirer, a learner, finding a few facts 
scattered on the border of the great realm of truth, and 
then drawing conclusions which claim to cover all things, 
even to the infinitely great and incomprehensible God, 
whose being, by searching, cannot be found out. The world 
is becoming full of what they themselves complacently term 
" thinkers," men who, from the low and narrow range of 
observation to which the most powerful human intellect is 
confined, vault confidently into the judgment seat, and dis- 
course with oracular authority how far faith may go without 
entering the realm of superstition. 



164 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

With a little knowledge, and with a head stuffed full of 
rationalistic notions, any man can set himself forth as a 
thinker, and bewilder and puzzle people who have not 
thought much about such matters. There seems to be an 
air of superiority in their eyes in being thus able to reach 
truth by a process of ratiocination, instead of accepting it 
from a divine revelation in simple and humble faith. Such 
a process is very flattering to the vanity of such men. 

Shall we undertake to meet them by a counter process of 
reasoning ? We may ; but it is not the better method. Jesus 
has left words enough on record, if we could only use them 
aright, to sweep all such superficial and vain reasonings from 
the earth. Take one or two examples, where he is telling us 
that our Father does perpetually interfere with our affairs 
and take special care of us, notwithstanding the fixedness 
of natural laws. He points to the sparrows, and tells us 
that not one of them can fall to the ground without God's 
volition ; and then tells his disciples to fear not, "ye are of 
more value than many sparrows." Again: "What man is 
there of you whom, if his son ask bread, will he give him a 
stone ? or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent ? If 
ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your 
children, how much more shall your Father which is in 
heaven give good things to them that ask him ?" 

How divinely clear and simple are these few words, and 
what a flood of light they shed upon the nature of God, 
and the relation he bears to us ! Then observe how he 
assigns to faith and reason their proper places and their 
appropriate work in the human soul. Let us examine the 
passage in detail. 

By an illustration drawn immediately from nature, he sets 
forth the relation which God sustains to us and we to him 
in terms so simple and so touching that any mind, however 
weak or illiterate, can not only comprehend it, but feel it. 



JESUS AS A TEACHER. 165 

The natural kindness of the parental heart is made to illus- 
trate the love of God* our Father. Here is no abstruse 
speculation, no groping in the dark, no guess-work, no 
climbing up through Nature to Nature's God, no far-fetched 
inferences or opinions, but truth itself in its clear light and 
simple majesty. Jesus Christ, in all his teachings, never 
uttered an opinion. He spoke as one having authority. 
Thus he taught us that God careth for us, that he is ever 
with us to hear and answer when we ask " good things;" 
as ready to bless as human parents are to give good gifts to 
their children. 

" What man is there of you whom, if his son ask bread, 
will give him a stone ? or if he ask a fish, will he give him 
a serpent?" He appeals to a universal principle, one not 
only known and believed in the abstract, but felt, and there- 
fore perfectly understood, as well by the simple and unlet- 
tered peasant as by the scholar and the sage. He sets the 
reasoning powers at work, and, unlike our profound thinkers, 
his illustration is as easily comprehended by the feeblest in- 
tellect as by the strongest. Based upon this universal and 
beneficent principle of natural affection, he builds the 
grandest argument for the fatherhood of God that ever was 
offered. "If ye, then, being evil, know how to give 
good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your 
Father who is in heaven give good things to them that ask 
him r 

Observe how he sets reason to work on this great problem, 
but in subordination to faith. He is not here asserting 
that God exists; nor is he showing us that he is ever pre- 
sent and ever active in his Providence. He is showing us 
the loving kindness of our Heavenly Father. His words 
here are in harmony with these lines, which for quaint sim- 
plicity, combined with the loftiest sublimity, have Tew if any 
equals in our language : — 



1 66 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

4< Such pity as a father hath unto his children dear, 

Like pity shows the Lord to such as worship him in fear." 

Thus does our Lord lift the weakest and the strongest of 
his people away up beyond the utmost range of reason and 
philosophy, up into the light of God, not the light of 
Nature; and yet with consummate skill he makes for us 
ladders of the simplest natural things, on which we are able 
to climb into the regions of pure and unmixed truth — to 
truth which the highest reason can approve, and yet can 
reach in no other way. 

Jesus presupposes that the son will ask for what he desires 
and needs. Here is prayer set forth in the simplest light — 
a hungry child asking for food. Any parent who is not a 
monster will listen to such a prayer as that, and give the 
needed good thing. Here, then, is prayer and the answer 
to prayer. So Jesus tells us that (Sod answers the petitions 
of his children. But our "thinkers," who have been delv- 
ing until they are blind among the mysteries of the material 
and tangible universe, tell us that all things are governed by 
immutable laws, established in the beginning; and that there- 
fore prayer is unavailing. They think that they have dis- 
covered that the Almighty does not interfere with the 
operation of the laws of Nature, and that therefore it is in 
vain to ask for anything. They hold that God is good and 
benevolent, because they see evidences of goodness in the 
order, beauty and benefits of creation ; but that good they 
hold to be general, not special. How shallow their philoso- 
phy is compared with the profound utterances of Jesus ! 

It is not without a purpose that Jesus makes the son ask 
bread or a fish. The prodigal needeed bread greatly while 
in the field feeding swine, and would fain have filled his 
belly with the husks which the swine did eat. In his solilo- 
quy about his father's house he admitted that he was perish- 
ing with hunger. But he had not yet asked. He felt his 



JESUS AS A TEACHER. 167 

need; but he had not yet prayed. His father made no 
movement towards relieving him, but suffered the inex- 
orable laws of cause and effect to operate. The son had 
been obstinate and rebellious; he had been reckless, dis- 
sipated and wasteful ; and those things had brought forth 
their natural and appropriate fruit. Did his father hate him 
while he was acting thus? No. Did he do anything for 
him ? No ; for to have followed him with benefits, to have 
given him tokens of his love, while his heart was in a state 
of alienation, would have done him more harm than good. 
But when he said, "I will arise and go to my father/' both 
parties were set in motion ; and while he was yet a great 
way off his father met him and showered upon him every 
token of his abounding love. " Father, I have sinned 
against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to 
be called thy son." This was prayer with confession, and 
the answer to that prayer fell as naturally and harmoniously 
into the chain of phenomena that runs through the entire 
case as did the degradation and suffering which resulted 
from a course of extravagance and dissipation. 

What, then, is the difference between the teachings of 
Christ and those of these skeptical "thinkers?" Simply 
this : He goes immeasurably beyond them. Standing as he 
does above all things, all truth is perfectly clear to him ; 
while they, from their low stand-point, are only able to ex- 
amine a few material things lying along the shore of the 
great ocean of truth ; and so little light have they that the 
most they can do is to grope and feel and speculate ; dealing 
largely in inferences and opinions, which Jesus never does. 



1 68 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

iOlttt'g topi 

" First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the 
ear," is the divinely appointed order in Nature and in Grace 
and the same order is apparent in the recorded revelation of 
Jesus Christ to the world. We have four witnesses who have 
set forth the facts in that wondrous story, and recorded the 
utterances of Him of whom they wrote. The first three 
testify to the extent of the light which was given them. In 
their testimony there is only so much discrepancy as arises 
from one recording incidents or sayings which the others 
have omitted — just enough to prove that there was no collu- 
sion among them, but that each is a true, disinterested and 
independent witness. For example : Matthew tells us that 
the two thieves who were crucified with Jesus, railed upon 
him, and echoed the taunts of the chief priests and scribes 
and elders. Mark does not mention them at all; while 
Luke narrates the penitence, the faith, the confession, the 
prayer, and the salvation of one of them. Now here is no 
contradiction ; and what difference there is in their narra- 
tions challenges our belief in their general testimony more 
strongly than if they had all told exactly the same story. 

But no careful student of the Holy Scriptures can fail to 
be struck with the marked difference in style and manner 
between John's Gospel and those of the others. He starts 
out on a higher plane, and maintains it throughout. They 
begin with the nativity or before it, and follow Jesus through 
his eventful life as simple historians or biographers. John, 
on the other hand, begins with the Logos, who was with God, 
and who was God, and who became flesh and dwelt among us. 
To establish this grand opening proposition seems to have 
been the work given of the Father to this witness. It is 
only here and there that he touches upon the incidents 



John's gospel. 169 

which crowded to fullness that short but wondrous life; but 
all the incidents he mentions, go to establish the great fact 
that God was manifest in the flesh. His first mention of 
Jesus as a man is in terms which show that he was speak- 
ing of one with whom the world was already familiar — one 
whose personal history had been sufficiently set forth — one 
who was already believed on in the world as the Saviour of 
sinners; but whose transcendent grandeur had not yet been 
clearly revealed. 

As Jesus gave to the people his doctrine "as they were 
able to hear it," (Mark iv. 33,) so, in his providence, he 
seems to have given the Gospel to the world. Matthew, 
Mark, and Luke had written their simple synoptical narra- 
tives ; Luke had given to the church his Acts of the Apos- 
tles ; the Epistles of Paul, and Peter, and James had-become 
the property of the church; and believers had become so 
confirmed in their faith that they were at length able to 
hear what the earlier disciples would not have been able. 
John, the beloved, the intimate, the b osom friend and com- 
panion of the Lord, was preserved in life long after all his 
brethren had gone to their reward ; and probably forty years 
after the others had borne their testimony, he, full of years 
and the Holy Ghost, went back to the beginning and set 
Christ forth as he was, "God manifest in the flesh. 7 ' 

In his valedictory address at the last supper, recorded 
only by John (xiv., xv., xvi.,) Jesus said, "But the Com- 
forter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send 
in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all 
things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto 
you." In John's Gospel we see a fulfillment of this promise 
in the fullness and fidelity with which he has given many of 
the longest and most important discourses of the Master — dis- 
courses not given at all by the others — held back, we may 
without irreverence suppose, until believers at large were 

*5 



170 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

able to hear them. Take, for example, his discourse to 
Nicodemus, his conversation with the woman of Samaria, 
his closing address to the disciples at the supper just before 
he suffered, and, more wonderful than all, his prayer to the 
Father at the close of that address. 

John often touches the paths of the other evangelists and 
narrates the same incidents ; but there is no collision — all 
is substantial harmony. But everything he narrates seems 
to subserve his main design, which was to set forth Christ's 
Divinity. It is somewhat remarkable that John only nar- 
rates the great miracle of the raising of Lazarus. Luke 
gives us in a few words, the narrative of the raising of the 
son of the widow of Nain, and he does so in terms of inim- 
itable simplicity, beauty and pathos; but the narrative of 
Lazarus-, as more fully and circumstantially given by John, 
was probably left to him by Him who fits all his servants 
for their work. It may be that it required higher gifts and 
fuller inspiration than any of the others possessed to nar- 
rate that stupendous miracle. But we had better not spec- 
ulate, -but simply say, " Even so, Father, for so it seemed 
good in thy sight." . 

There have been some who doubted, and there may be 
some who still doubt, the authenticity of this book, because 
of their opposition to Christ's Divinity. But there is suffi- 
cient outside testimony of its genuineness to satisfy all rea- 
sonable minds. We shall mention but one witness. Ire- 
nseus, who was, in early manhood, the friend and pupil of 
Polycarp, who was a disciple of John, has left a letter dis- 
tinctly and positively affirming that Polycarp accepted 
John's Gospel as authentic, as he did also those of the three 
earlier evangelists. The lives of those three men, John, 
Polycarp, and Irenaeus, reached through two centuries. 
John was nearly or quite a hundred years old when he died; 
Polycarp was nearly the same age when he suifered martyr- 



JESUS IN TROUBLE. I 7* 

dom ; Irenseus also reached a very advanced age, and wrote 
the letter referred to about the second year of the third 
century. 

But to the fair minded and thoughtful student the inter- 
nal evidence of the book is sufficient, for the simple reason 
that it soars far above the range of thought which any im- 
postor could reach. Such simplicity and grandeur, such 
purity and sweetness, are not of earth, much less do they 
belong to the domain of falsehood and deception. The 
stream can never rise higher than the fountain; and fic- 
tion, however ingenious, must always have its roots in the 
domain of the known and knowable. John goes far above 
that plane, and therefore must be one of God's own wit- 
nesses. 



$t$M in SmmM*. 

John, in his gospel, lets us more into the inner life of 
Jesus than do any of the other evangelists. He records no 
parables, and relates but few miracles ; but no other writer 
gives such full reports of the profound sayings of our Lord 
as he. His gospel was written long after the others. Prob- 
ably the youngest of the twelve, his life was protracted to 
extreme age, and among the closing labors of his life was 
the writing of this book. The cloud of common and 
more recent memories had rolled away from his mind, while 
those of his youth came back clear and bright. This is 
a common and natural psychological phenomenon. But 
beyond and above that was this promise of the Master, 
which he himself records: " These things have I spoken 
unto you, being yet present with you ; but the comforter, 
which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my 



172 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to 
your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you'' 

To the writers of the synoptical gospels accuracy of state- 
ment appears to have been given, and verbal accuracy as 
far as was necessary for the task that was given them to do ; 
but to John the words of Jesus were given back with a de- 
gree of fullness, freshness and accuracy, of which there is 
no example. Sixty years at least must have rolled round 
from the time the words were uttered until the venerable 
apostle put them upon record. John, doubtless, was pre- 
sent when Nicodemus called upon the divine Teacher, and 
the record of the conversation is as fresh as if he had taken 
it down in short-hand at the moment. We know he was 
present in that upper room in Jerusalem; yet notwithstand- 
ing the long delay, every word of that divine valedictory, 
with every interrupting remark of the listening disciples, is 
given just as if it had been written at the moment. There 
is something very wonderful in this j and it can only be ac- 
counted for on the hypothesis that in John's case the promise 
quoted above was accomplished in absolute fullness. 

In his 12th chapter, John records a cry of anguish which 
burst from the heart of the great Captain of our Salvation 
as he drew near to his terrible conflict. It is very much like 
the cry of Gethsemane : "Now is my soul troubled, and 
what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour ; but for 
this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name 1" 

John alone records this wonderful outburst of anguish. 
He does not tell us any thing about the still deeper and 
more protracted anguish of Gethsemane ; for as the others 
had told the story well and fully, he need not repeat it. 

This preliminary shudder reveals to us how terrible must 
have been the burden of sorrow which Jesus bore all through 
his life, and which made him as the prophet, in language 
sublimely pathetic, expresses it, "a man of sorrows and 



JESUS IN TROUBLE. T73 

acquainted with £rief." With the psalmist he could easily 
exclaim, " I will not fear what man can do unto me;" but 
oh ! to encounter the concentrated wrath of God as he only 
could know it ; to bear the penalty due to a world of sin- 
ners was more than even his courage could calmly contem- 
plate. For once he is puzzled and exclaims : " What shall I 
say?" His first impulse is to escape, and he cries : 4 ' Father, 
save me from this hour !" But no sooner is the petition ut- 
tered than it is taken back; for he adds, "but for this 
cause came I unto this hour." What next ? What can he 
pray for? But one thing is left for which he may ask. 
Shut in on all sides, out of the depths he sends his last 
availing cry, " Father, glorify thy name." Instantly the 
Father answers audibly: "I have both glorified it, and will 
glorify it again." When Jesus awoke on the boisterous 
sea and said to the fierce tempest and the agitated waters, 
' 'Peace! Be still," all nature was instantly hushed in a 
deep calm. So was his soul now. The prayer of the 
troubled Saviour is answered, and he is at rest. He cannot 
escape death, but he triumphs over it. He cannot be de- . 
livered from the* avenging wrath of God, but he is content 
to endure it. It is given him to see the travail of his soul, 
and he is satisfied ; for in the rfext minute we hear him ex- 
claiming in triumph : "Now is the judgment of this world ; 
now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I 
be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." 

The man of sorrows himself never uttered a better or 
more available prayer than this ; and it is one which every 
crushed spirit may utter just as freely as he did. No sorrow 
can be so great, no apprehension so gloomy, no immediate 
prospect so appalling as was his. No one can be more 
sternly and rigidly shut up than he was; none more per- 
emptorily denied that which may be ardently desired. Yet 
see his triumph, when, rising above his dark and troubled 

15* 



174 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

surroundings, he desires and seeks only the glory of 
God. 

"Father, glorify thy name !" A wife may utter the 
ejaculation over a dying husband, a mother over the coffin 
of her babe ; and even a father over the body of a depraved 
son from whose dark grave no hope of a glorious resurrec- 
tion beams forth. It is a cry which did originally come, 
and ever will continue to come, from the lowest depths of 
earthly trouble and sorrow. 



f mtltt m& pm». 

That in some minds there exists a vague and cloudy idea 
that these essential elements in the character of God are in 
some way antagonistic the one to the other, is abundantly 
shown by the tenor of some sermons, discourses and prayers 
which we hear. This error, when it gets a lodgment in the 
mind, leads to the cognate error that God is bound by the 
constitution of his nature to be just, which is true ; but 
that he is not bound in the same way to be merciful. That 
he dispenses justice in accordance with a perfectly holy and 
unchangeable law, which is true ; but that in the dispensa- 
tion of his mercy he is regulated by no such law, but acts 
arbitrarily, and in a manner which, if attributed to a human 
sovereign, would be called caprice, which is a great and in- 
jurious error. 

" Mercy and Truth are met together; Righteousness and 
Peace have kissed each other," is God's own testimony re- 
specting these all-important elements in his character. 
The words are as expressive of perfect harmony, concord, 
and everlasting unity, as anything in human language can 
be ; and hence the remarkable declaration of the apostle on 



JUSTICE AND MERCY. 175 

this point: "He is faithful and just to forgive us our 
sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." It is a glo- 
rious thought, that the Justice of God is as much exercised 
and as much magnified in our salvation as is his Mercy. 
That in this, as in all things else, they are essentially one \ 
and that, combined, they constitute what we call his Good- 
ness. 

There are beings upon whom Justice has no claims, that 
is, they have violated no law, and are therefore not amena- 
ble to that punishment which is the penalty of violated 
law. There are others who stand in such relations to their 
Creator and Sovereign that he cannot bless them. There 
are others — and such are we — who, although by nature at 
enmitywith God, are so situated that, through the great 
Mediator, they may be reconciled, pardoned, accepted 
and saved. In his dealings with all these three classes of 
his creatures the Justice and Mercy of God are alike harmo- 
nious, and are equally glorified. 

When our glorious Redeemer took upon him our nature 
and our iniquities, worked out our redemption by yielding 
a perfect obedience to the divine law, and by enduring the 
penalty his people had incurred, thus magnifying the law and 
making it honorable, Justice and Mercy walked hand-in-hand 
in perfect harmony \ and when the adorable Sufferer writhed 
in agony in the garden and on the cross, they were, as they 
had ever been, and as they ever will be, locked in fond em- 
brace. And when the redeemed shall reach their everlast- 
ing home, Justice and Mercy will unite in the bestowment 
of their crowns, as they united in laying upon Him the in- 
iquity of us all. 



176 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The number, excellence and prominence of the women 
who bore this pretty name in the four gospel narratives 
is remarkable. Even the chosen twelve hardly seem to 
have been more closely allied to our Lord than they, or 
their history more closely interwoven with his, than 
theirs. . 

But some confusion of thought as to their personal 
identity seems to have crept into the minds of Chris- 
tians, and even into standard theological works, by which 
the bright and beautiful reputations of two of them have 
suffered. I mean Mary Magdalene and Mary the sister of 
Martha and Lazarus. Let us see if we cannot fix them in 
their proper spheres, each in her place, and with her own 
peculiar characteristics. 

THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 

Mary the mother of Jesus stands forth pre-eminently 
distinguished among women, because she was so. That 
she was eminently good is certain. But the little that we 
have of her history shows us that she was one of those 
quiet, undemonstrative saints, which is characteristic of vast 
numbers of believing women. She seems to have been re- 
markable for her simple, unquestioning faith. When Ga- 
briel made known to her the glad yet astounding fact that 
she should miraculously become the mother of the Messiah, 
her meek and calm reply was, "Behold the handmaid of 
the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word." These 
words reveal the character of the woman, so far as her 
child-like faith is concerned — a faith which even at the 
time excited the admiration of her friends ; for we read 
that Elizabeth exclaimed in her rapturous salutation, 
" Blessed is she that believeth that there shall be a perform- 



THE MARYS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 177 

ance of those things which were told her from the Lord I" 
(I follow the marginal reading.) That her piety and her 
general character were quiet and undemonstrative we learn 
from such words as these — and we find them two or three 
times : " Mary kept all these things and pondered them in 
her heart." Once, and only once, we hear her burst forth 
in an eloquent and rapturous prophetic song at the house of 
her friend Elizabeth ; but her common faith and devotion 
seem to have been passive rather than active. She stood 
by the cross on Calvary, where the sword of which good 
old Simeon spoke at the circumcision pierced her soul ; 
but we have no record of either word or action there. 
She was with the waiting and praying one hundred and 
twenty followers of Jesus when the Holy Ghost was poured 
out on the day of Pentecost ; but all that we know is that 
she was there. That is the last record we have of this il- 
lustrious, but meek and quiet woman. .Nothing could be 
in stronger contrast than the humble and undemonstrative 
part she bore on earth, and the activity and power which 
the Romish church attributes to her in heaven. 

MARY MAGDALENE. 

Mary Magdalene is so called because she was a native or 
resident of Magdala previous to her acquaintance with the 
Lord. When he first found her she was laboring under a 
fearful mental malady, strange and mysterious to us, but 
common then, called in the New Testament " possessed of 
devils." Some understand this phrase in its simple verity; 
others that it is only used because a simple and supersti- 
tious people supposed that certain forms of mental aberra- 
tion arose from the in-dwelling of evil spirits, and the con- 
trol by them of the physical powers of the human beings 
of whom they were allowed to take possession. My own 
impression is that it was truly a diabolical possession— that 
evil spirits were really permitted to enter human beings at 



178 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

that time, so that there should be a kind of balance of an- 
tagonistic power during the time when the Divine Being 
was incarnate and walked as a man among men. The re- 
corded language of Christ himself constrains me to this 
conclusion. In this way he brought himself into closer 
contact with his mightiest foe, and in the sight of angels 
and men asserted his power over the evil one, together with 
his angels or subordinates. 

We read that out of Mary Magdalene Jesus cast seven 
devils. She was fearfully afflicted ; but the cure was 
thorough, and her gratitude to her Benefactor was ex- 
pressed, not in words, so far as we know, but in acts of 
heroic devotion to his service, especially in that terrible 
closing scene when his male disciples and chosen ones for- 
sook him and fled. 

*' Last at the cross and earliest at the tomb," 
it was Mary's high privilege to be the first to hear the 
voice of her risen and now immortal Lord, and to recog- 
nize that voice in the heavenly music of her own name. 
Never will that scene of unequaled pathos be forgotten, or 
its lustre be dimmed, either on earth or in heaven. 

But who and what was Mary Magdalene ? Had she ever 
sunk to a life of shame and moral degradation prior to her 
first knowledge of her Saviour ? Thousands believe so. 
Yet there is not a word in the inspired history to warrant 
such a notion. That she had been terribly afflicted is 
true ; but that her life had been vile, that she was such a 
one as she whom Simon the Pharisee called "a sinner,* ' is 
a gratuitous and injurious assumption. In the copy of the 
Bible now before me, in the summary of topics set over the 
7th chapter of Luke, I find these words : " Christ .... 
showeth by occasion of Mary Magdalene how he is the 
friend of sinners," &c. In the closing part of that chapter 
Luke gives us the beautiful narrative of the weeping peni- 



THE MARYS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 1 79 

tent who washed Christ's feet with tears, wiped them with 
the hairs of her head, anointed them, and then received 
from his lips words of commendation, peace and pardon. 
This woman was a fallen one, " a sinner," as Simon in his 
heart called her; but that she was Mary Magdalene is the 
sheerest assumption. In all that chapter there is not the 
slightest allusion to her. We know nothing about the name 
of the woman there spoken of; but we do know that she 
loved much, and that her action, under all the circum- 
stances, was one of heroic devotion. But to make her and 
Mary Magdalene identical, as has been done in the head- 
ing of that chapter, which many simple minded readers 
will receive as inspired verity, exhibits a degree of careless- 
ness, or dullness of apprehension, which is truly mar- 
velous. 

This wide-spread and long existing mistake has led to a 
use of the word Magdalene, by which this noble Christian 
woman is designated in the sacred record, which puts a 
stain upon her untarnished reputation — making it a syno- 
nym of shame, dishonor and degradation, coupled with 
better aspirations. I allude to the term "Magdalene" as 
applied to asylums for fallen women. I trust that some 
other term will be adopted, and the honored name of 
Mary Magdalene be delivered from the dishonoring ideal 
association. 

MARY THE SISTER OF I AZ ARUS. 

But what about Mary the sister of Lazarus — that Mary 
who sat at Jesus' feet and heard his word at a time when 
her more active sister thought she ought to have been en- 
gaged in her domestic duties ? Was she the same woman 
of whom Luke tells us, who went into the Pharisee's 
house, where Jesus was sitting at meat, came behind him, 
washed his feet (which the Pharisee's discourteous neglect 
had left covered with dust,) with her tears, wiped them with 



l8o GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the hairs of her head, opened an alabaster box of ointment, 
anointed them, and of whom and to whom the Lord spoke 
words of commendation and forgiveness, and then telling 
her that her faith had saved her, bade her "go in peace"? 
While there is far more plausibility in this opinion than in 
the other already spoken of, that the woman mentioned 
by Luke was Mary Magdalene, I believe that that woman 
and Mary of Bethany are not identical — that while the one 
was a penitent cyprian of the city, the other was a devout, 
gentle, kind and beloved friend of Jesus, whose home was 
in the little town of Bethany, two miles to the eastward of 
the city. It is true that John says in a parenthesis, in 
speaking of Mary of Bethany, that "it was that Mary which 
anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with 
her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick." (xi. 2.) In 
the 12 th chapter he relates the incident here alluded to, in 
these words: " Then took Mary a pound of ointment, very 
costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet 
with her hair, and the house was filled with the odor of 
the ointment." Matthew, chapter xxvi., relates the same 
incident, and fixes it in the house of Simon the leper ; but 
he does not name the woman. Whether Simon the leper 
was a Pharisee I do not know ; but there is very little simi- 
larity between this narrative and that of Luke, while it 
agrees in nearly every particular with that of John, except 
that Matthew says the head of the Saviour was anointed, 
and John mentions only his feet. Mark's account agrees 
in almost every particular with that of Matthew. John 
says they made him a supper at Bethany, and that Martha 
served, and Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table 
with him. He does not say at whose house the supper was 
made; but Matthew and Mark both say that it was at 
that of Simon the leper, who resided at Bethany. But 
"they made him a supper, and Martha served," from 



THE MARYS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 151 

which we may infer that it was a joint affair among the 
neighbors. That it was the same incident which Matthew 
and Mark relate we may gather from what all three say of 
the grumbling of Judas at the waste. Matthew and Mark 
do not tell us who it was that complained, but John does. 
All of them record the Saviour's commendation of the act. 
But to satisfy any observant reader that the affair of which 
Luke gives such a graphic account, and that of which the 
other three evangelists speak are altogether different, it is 
only necessary to compare, or, rather, contrast the language 
of Jesus on the two occasions. For the sake of brevity I 
forbear quoting them, but request any reader who may feel 
an interest in the subject to turn to the narrative given by 
Luke, chapter vii. 36, to the end, and to those given by 
the other three of the anointing of the Saviour by a woman. 
Moreover, the affair which Luke records is put under the 
date of A. D. 31; the other in 33, only six days before 
the passover and the crucifixion. Still there is a remarka- 
ble coincidence in some particulars given by Luke and the 
others. In both cases the name of the host is Simon, one 
a Pharisee, the other designated by the term leper. In both, 
the gentle devotee is said to have wiped his feet with her 
hair. Luke speaks of washing them with tears, but John 
says nothing about that. Luke speaks of sin and shame, of 
penitence and pardon, and of great love because much was 
forgiven. None of the others say anything of the kind. 
I am persuaded, therefore, that the woman mentioned by 
Luke and Mary of Bethany are not identical. While there 
are some particulars in both strangely similar, there are 
still more as much in contrast as anything can be. 

The contrast between these two sisters, Martha and Mary, 
both excellent Christian women, is an interesting subject of 
study. The one seems to have been active, energetic, gen- 
erous, and perhaps a little petulant. Her ambition was to 

16 



1 82 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

give to her Lord and Master, when he visited the family, 
the very best that it was in her power to give ; and hence, 
becoming "cumbered about much serving," she grew 
impatient with her sister, who preferred to sit at Jesus' feet 
and hear his discourse, leaving her more careful sister to 
serve alone. Perhaps Mary was to blame for this ; but 
Martha was still more to blame for addressing the Lord 
himself in words of complaint and ill humor — "Dost thou 
not care that my sister has left me to serve alone ? Bid her 
therefore that she help me." 

When Jesus visited the family after the death of Lazarus, 
both sisters used the same words upon meeting him — 
" Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died" 
— first Martha, afterwards Mary. To the first he replied in 
language as calm and lofty as ever fell from his lips; for 
probably Martha in her heart entertained a trace of hard 
feeling at his seeming neglect. But when the gentler sister 
uttered the same exclamation, the outgush of a great sor- 
row, unmingled with a murmur, her great but gentle 
Friend could only mingle his tears with hers. He did not, 
possibly could not, speak, but " groaned in the spirit and 
was troubled. " In these two incidents we see two types of 
character, both of which are common in the world to this 
day. 

MARY THE MOTHER OF JAMES. 

Of Mary the mother of James we know very little ; but 
we do know that with Mary Magdalene, and like her, she 
lingered to the last at the cross, saw the Lord laid in Joseph's 
sepulchre, and at early dawn on the first day of the week 
was at the tomb ready to do all in her power to honor him. 
Thus she became one of the first to hear from angelic lips 
the glad news of his resurrection. This is I think the same 
woman whom John calls Mary the wife of Cleophas, and 



THE AFFAIR OF THE TRIBUTE-MONEY. 1 83 

the sister, or kinswoman, of Mary the mother of Jesus. It 
is not likely that she was her full sister, as she bore the same 
name. 



There are few examples of deeper and more consummate 
craft than was involved in the question propounded to Christ 
by the Pharisees and Herodians, as to whether it was lawful 
to pay tribute to Ccesar or not. Judea at that time was a 
conquered province of the Roman Empire, and the Jews 
were obliged to acknowledge the authority of the Emperor 
and to pay tribute to him, however reluctant they were to 
do either one or the other. While among the Jews nothing 
could be more unpopular than to profess friendship and 
fidelity to Caesar; on the other hand, filled as Judea was 
with the civil and military officers of Rome, nothing could 
be more dangerous than to deny the lawful authority of him 
whose conquering arms had made him the supreme ruler 
not only of Judea, but of nearly all the then known world. 

Eager to entrap the Saviour and to get him into difficul- 
ty with the Roman authorities, or to render him odious to 
the Jews, — they cared not which, — they resolved to put a 
question to him which he could not well refuse to answer, 
and which, as they supposed, answer it as he might, could 
not fail to involve him in difficulty. And in order the more 
certainly to insure a reply of some kind, a committee was 
appointed to wait on him, who approached him with ex- 
pressions of profound respect and abject flattery. "Master," 
said they, "we know that thou art true, and teachest the 
way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man ; for 
thou regardest not the person of men: tell us, therefore, 
what thinkest thou? is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar 



1 84 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

or not?" Here was a dilemma too great for human wis- 
dom to escape, — a net so artfully woven that any but Jesus 
must have been caught in some of its meshes. In bland 
and honeyed accents the problem, with its flattering intro- 
duction, was uttered; and, the leader having delivered him- 
self, the artful deputation awaited with malicious exultation 
the confusion into which they were sure of throwing Him 
whom they hated. But how were they astonished to see a 
dark cloud of indignant scorn gather upon that calm, mild, 
benign countenance, and hear him thunder forth the severe 
reply, "Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites ?" Now they 
would gladly escape; but he has caught them, and holds 
them fast in his grasp. "Show me the tribute-money," is 
his instant and stern command. They cannot refuse; so 
they produce a penny, (a small silver coin, bearing Caesar's 
image and superscription, of the value of about fourteen 
cents in our currency.) "Whose is this image and super- 
scription?" he demands of his now abashed interrogators. 
The question cannot be evaded, although they now feel that 
the little coin which they have put into his hand, and which 
he is holding up before their eyes, is at once the badge and 
symbol of their national degradation; and they feel how 
ridiculous it is in them to be asking such questions. They 
are now sufficiently punished; so he dismisses them by ut- 
tering one of the most profound and important precepts 
that ever fell upon mortal ears : — " Render, therefore, unto 
Ccesar the things that are Ccesar's, and unto God the things 
that are God's" 

I desire to offer a few reflections upon this divine and 
comprehensive precept. 

Nothing is more common than for rulers to invade the 
rights of God; for God has reserved to himself great and 
important rights. While it is true that "the powers that 
be are ordained of God," and that we are bound by a di- 



THE AFFAIR OF THE TRIBUTE-MONEY. 185 

vine command to yield obedience to the ordinances of men, 
yet all these, in order to challenge our obedience, must be 
subordinate to that Higher Law which God has laid down in 
his word. The apostles and early Christians were obedient 
to all the laws and ordinances of the Roman Empire, so far as 
they did not conflict with the rights and laws of God ; but, 
where they did so, they deliberately disobeyed them. Had 
they yielded an undiscriminating obedience to the laws of 
the Empire, had they rendered unto Caesar all that he 
claimed, Christianity must have ceased to exist ; for to con- 
fess Christ was for a long time a highly penal offense. These 
men gave unto Caesar the things that were Caesar's ; but they 
suffered death in its most terrific form rather than yield unto 
Caesar the things that were God's. 

When Darius the Mede issued a decree that no man should 
ask a petition of any god or man, except himself, for a space 
of thirty days, he usurped one of the rights of God. Daniel 
at that time was high in office under Darius ; and if any 
man was under obligation to render obedience to the de- 
cree he was the man. But while he was ever faithful to his 
prince, and in all things rendered unto Caesar the things 
that were Caesar's, he firmly and openly refused to render 
unto Caesar the things that were God's. Daniel might have 
prayed in secret, as doubtless he did ; but his custom had 
been to pray with open window, with his face towards Jeru- 
salem ; and to have discontinued this custom during these 
thirty days would have been an acknowledgment that the 
laws of Darius were higher than the laws of God, and the 
rights of Darius more sacred than those of God. This Dan- 
iel would by no means do, but preferred rather to incur the 
penalty of being cast into a den of lions. ",He that honor- 
eth me I will honor," says God; and we see the truth of his 
promise wonderfully exemplified in the case of Daniel. 
<J Fear not them which kill the body/' says the Saviour, — 

16* 



1 86 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

an injunction which presupposes that it is sometimes neces- 
sary to resist the authority of the powers that be. Daniel 
found it necessary; so did Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed- 
nego; so did the apostles and early Christians, and even 
Christ himself. 

In the comprehensive scope of the precept before us, the 
word Caesar is put for any civil government. It comes 
home, therefore, to us as much as it did to the Jews , and 
is as much the rule for the government of free American 
citizens as of Jewish tributaries. Our circumstances are, 
however, materially different. Our Caesar is in a measure 
under our own control ; theirs was not ; but the rule is of 
equally easy application to both. We, however, have one 
responsibility which did not rest upon the conquered Israel- 
ites, and that is the exercise of a perpetual vigilance to pre- 
vent any conflict between the laws of the country and the 
laws of God. This is the great duty of the citizen in his 
sovereign capacity, as an integral part of the very govern- 
ment itself. But if, unhappily, any laws shall be enacted 
contrary to his conscientious views in the sight of his su- 
preme Sovereign, and which he cannot obey without sin, 
his only course is to obey God rather than man, as the an- 
cient worthies of whom we have been speaking did, and 
take the consequences. Daniel's disobedience and God's 
interposition for his deliverance put an end to the impious 
decree of Darius, restored God to his rights and man to his 
liberty ; and, if we wish well to our government and nation, 
we will do well always, and in all our duties as citizens, to 
cling to the supremacy of God and his laws. 

But who is to be the judge whether a particular law agrees 
or conflicts with the divine law? Here is one of the high- 
est prerogatives of conscience. Daniel exercised it ; the 
three young men on the plain of Dura exercised it; Peter 
exercised it before the Sanhedrim ; and all the martyrs ex- 



THE AFFAIR OF THE TRIBUTE-MONEY. 1 87 

ercised it. The word of God is the only tribunal to 
which we can bring such questions. We must hear that 
word for ourselves; another cannot hear it for us; and, hav- 
ing heard it, our own conscience, as in the sight of God, 
must decide. 

"If any man sue thee at the law," says Jesus, and take away 
thy coat, let him have thy cloak also," thus showing his 
estimate of the rights of property — as not worth contending 
about. So, of course, we are to violate no law because we 
honestly think it infringes the rights of property. This is 
one of our personal rights ; and our mere personal rights, 
involving only material interests, are the lowest. The three 
orders of rights are the rights of persons, the rights of gov- 
ernment, and the rights of God. Conscience is the divine- 
ly constituted arbiter amongst all these rights. It says, That 
is my coat, my right to it is unquestionable ; but conscience 
under certain circumstances, may say, Let it go ; do not con- 
tend about it. (See Matthew v. 40-42.) A personal right may 
sometimes be relinquished without sin. Caesar says, Pay 
me so much tribute. Conscience sits upon the case and de- 
cides, — Caesar has a right to it, in virtue of his supreme au- 
thority : let him have it. Next God speaks and claims ready 
and entire obedience to all his commandments, let who will 
forbid. Here conscience bends humbly before its only Lord, 
and, without gainsaying, urges obedience. We see, then, 
that the conscience of the humblest individual can of right 
have no sovereign but God himself, and that its rights are 
among the rights of God; for whoever undertakes to rule 
the conscience of another is guilty of usurping one of the 
reserved prerogatives of Jehovah. 

All consciences may not be equally enlightened, and may 
err in the interpretation of God's laws, or may misappre- 
hend his revealed will. But, be his honest impressions what 
they may, the man is bound to observe what he believes to 



1 88 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

be its teachings. (See Romans xiv.) To those who do so 
out of regard to the glory of God, and with a sincere desire to 
obey him, he has promised more light; for he has said, "To 
the upright light shall arise in the darkness.* ' We ought to 
be very tender, therefore, of the conscientious scruples of 
our brethren; for we may be sure that he who is really de- 
sirous of obeying God will not be suffered to go very far 
astray. 

But let us beware of doing any thing merely because the 
law of the land enjoins it or allows it; or of regarding 
things as right simply because they may in this sense be 
lawful. Let us not forget that God has claims upon us as 
private individuals, as citizens, as sovereign people, quite as 
sacred as those which he has upon us as Christians. It is 
^ fearful truth, that, as a nation, we are prone to forget God; 
and this is seen in the fact that when we come to exercise 
the highest act of sovereignty — the choice of our rulers — 
we forget the claims of Gcd. Let us render unto Caesar 
the things that are Caesar's; but, while we do so, let the 
latter clause of the precept be kept ever in view ; else we 
shall be in great danger of giving to Caesar the things that 
are God's, and of regarding the authority of Caesar as su- 
preme. Cling, then, to the Higher Law, and only render 
an entire obedience to the laws of man after they have been 
brought by an honest conscience to the bar of that law. 
Some will tell us that this is a dangerous rule, subversive of 
all government. Let such ponder the terrible examples 
with which history abounds of the ruin of nations which 
gave to Caesar the things that were God's; and then let 
them point, if they can, to the example of any nation that 
sustained damage from a too scrupulous regard to the laws 
of God. His service is perfect safety ; and there can be no 
true freedom except in obedience to him. " Where the law 
of the Lord is, there is liberty." 



HOW JESUS TAUGHT FORGIVENESS. 1 89 

Many, many times did Jesus press home upon the minds 
of his disciples, and through them,' upon the consciences of 
all to whom his instructions come, the duty of forgiveness ; 
nay, the imperative necessity of it in order to be saved at 
all. As one speaking by authority, he solemnly and pos- 
itively declares : "If ye forgive not men their trespasses, 
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.* ' 

Peter, we may suppose, was thinking about this great law 
of his Masters kingdom — perhaps he and some of the others 
had been talking about it — before he came to Jesus with the 
question, "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, 
and I forgive him? Till seven times ?" He thought that 
surely there must be a limit somewhere ; and seven times 
was as large a measure as he could imagine. But the direct 
and emphatic reply of the Lord: — "I say not unto thee 
' until seven times/ but until seventy times seven* ' — gave 
him a larger, higher, and grander view of the subject. The 
number of times, although expressed in specific terms, is 
practically unlimited. Then follows the parable of the two 
creditors and the two debtors, as found in Matthew xviii. 23, 
to the close. 

This awful parable, which comes home to every soul on 
earth, of every age and condition — to the child in the nur- 
sery or on the play ground \ to the woman in her social life 
or amid her domestic cares; to the man of business in his 
counting house, or his shop, or in his intercourse with his 
fellows; to the family circle in which God has sweetly bound 
his children together in little bands ; and in short, to the 
whole circle of human life — is but a commentary upon the 
conditions more abstractly expressed, as above quoted, to 
which our Father in heaven holds every one of us. 



I90 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

What is it to forgive? It is to feel towards and treat the 
offender as though he had not offended. This applies to 
injuries or affronts, and not always to debts or dues, as in 
the parable. It applies to what we call trespasses, the word 
our Lord uses when he states the condition upon which our 
Father will alone forgive us. A beautiful exemplification 
of forgiveness in this sense we have in our Lord's treatment 
of Peter after his denial ; for we do not learn that in all 
their subsequent intercourse he ever made the remotest allu- 
sion to Peter's offense, which comprehended all we can con- 
ceive of perfidy, insult and personal offense. He demanded 
no open confession, no apology. He did not call his sin to 
remembrance in any way. Those who imagine that they 
can see an allusion to this sad defection in the tender and 
thrice uttered inquiry, '** Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou 
me ?'■ do not, I think, understand either the nature of divine 
forgiveness or the character of Jesus. One might suppose 
that the risen Redeemer had forgotten all about it, after 
reading the narrative of the resurrection and what followed. 
But he did not forget, nor will he suffer his church to for- 
get j and his treatment of that ardent, honest but impulsive 
disciple will stand to the end of time, not only as an exam- 
ple of forgiveness, but to show us what forgiveness is, and 
how to practice it. Here was no " I'll tell him what I 
think of his conduct ;" " I'll make him apologize ;" " He 
shall acknowledge it ;" and all that kind of stuff, so com- 
mon in the world, and even among the professed disciples 
of Jesus. 

An offense or a trespass is not forgiven if a subsequent 
offense will call it up and cause it to be spoken of. There 
is no surer or sadder evidence of an unforgiving spirit than 
this, and, alas ! few things are more common. God says 
of his forgiven people, " Their sins and iniquities will I 
remember no more." With him absolute forgetfulness is 



HOW JESUS TAUGHT FORGIVENESS. I9I 

impossible ; but he only means that he will treat them as 
Jesus treated Peter. There is a loose phrase common in 
the mouths of some people, " Forget and forgive ;" but 
forgiveness which must be preceded by forgetfulness is no 
virtue or grace at all. The glory of true forgiveness is in 
the fact that the offense is vividly, perhaps painfully, re- 
membered. 

But in the parable the transactions were all pecuniary. 
One servant owed his lord the king ten thousand talents — a 
vast sum, utterly beyond his ability to pay. This repre- 
sents the relation of sinful men to God. The servant 
begged for time, and promised to pay all; but the king knew 
that he never could pay, so he mercifully forgave him by 
remitting the debt. This was forgiveness in that sense, and 
agrees with the terms of the petition in the Lord's Prayer, 
" Forgive us our debts;" but in this case the conditional 
clause, " as we forgive our debtors/' was forgotten; for 
this huge bankrupt was himself a creditor in a small way — 
a fellow servant owed him a hundred pence. He owed the 
king ten thousand talents ; that which the fellow servant 
owed him was one hundred pence. These two specific 
sums are used by the divine Author of the parable to 
show, by strong contrast, the difference between any pos- 
sible indebtedness of man to man and the debt which 
sinful man owes to God. But the forgiven servant would 
not forgive. He felt that, although it was the king's pre- 
rogative and pleasure to show mercy, he was entitled to 
justice. He stood upon his rights, and the law would 
sustain him in so doing ; so he instituted rigorous proceed- 
ings in the case, as he had an undoubted legal right to 
do, and he met the consequences. His own tremendous 
debt rolled back upon him, and he sunk forever under its 
crushing weight, as thousands of professed Christians, who 
are rigidly exact in seeking their own legal rights, will do. 



I92 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Would you deny to a Christian the right to collect an 
honest debt ? somebody may ask. By no means, provided 
it can be done with a good conscience in the clear light of 
this parable, and in that of the Lord's Prayer, and the con- 
dition annexed to that prayer. 

There is one little incident in this parable to which I de- 
sire to call special attention ; for Jesus used no idle words. 
It is this: " When his fellow servants saw what was done 
they were very sorry." Oh ! if greedy, grasping, grinding 
professors of religion only knew how sorrowfully good men 
regard their conduct, it might be some check upon them, 
and cause them to give up either God or Mammon, both ot 
whom they cannot serve. 



Three of the evangelists, Matthew, Mark and Luke, re- 
late the case of the wealthy young man who came to Jesus 
with the anxious inquiry, "Good Master, what good thing 
shall I do that I may have eternal life ?" They all tell 
substantially the same story, with only such slight variations 
as prove that each was an independent witness and historian. 
But the main points stated are the same in all. The narra- 
tive is to the last degree peculiar, instructive and sad ; and 
the Saviour himself seems to have been saddened at the re- 
sult of the interview. 

It is plain that the young man knew neither himself nor 
Jesus. • The complimentary salutation, "Good Master/ ' 
was the utterance of a gentleman rather than a believer, 
and hence Christ's gentle rebuke, " Why callest thou me 
good ? There is none good but one, that is God." When 
Thomas exclaimed, at the sight of the prints of the nails 
and the gash of the spear in the risen body of his recently 



"WHAT LACK I YET?" I93 

murdered Master, " My Lord and my God!" he was not 
rebuked ; but here the compliment of a well-bred man is 
rebuked, because offered as mere flattery to a fellow man. 
His words had in them no recognition of the Son of God. 

This was a sincere, amiable, moral and wealthy young 
man. He did not come as the poor weeping penitent came 
in the house of Simon the Pharisee, bathing his feet with 
tears while she kissed them and then wiped them with her 
hair, but in calm self-complacency, yet not in much self- 
confidence. He thought he had done well ; for he claimed 
to have kept the law from his youth ; but still he did not 
feel quite safe. His heart, or the Holy Spirit operating 
upon his heart, told him that there was something lacking ; 
that there was some other good thing for him to do to give 
him an assurance of eternal life ; that his observance of the 
law, perfect as he supposed it to have been, was not enough; 
so, as Matthew tells us, he asked, after declaring that all 
these things he had kept from his youth up, " What lack I 
yet?? 

Truly this must have been an amiable man, for Mark 
says, "Then, Jesus beholding him loved him." He was 
what would pass current in the world for a good man. No 
eye less than omniscient could see that he was not a good 
man, and that, as he then was, eternal life was impossible 
to him. He thought he was a good man ; others doubtless 
thought the same; but Jesus said, "'One thing thou lackest. 
Go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the poor, 
and thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come, take up 
the cross and follow me." His case was one of fearful dif- 
ficulty, and demanded a corresponding remedy, and hence 
the severity of the terms. Jesus, who knew what was in 
man, knew that his heart was wedded to his wealth, and 
that, so long as he possessed it, God and heaven could have 
but secondary places. 

17 



194 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Matthew tells us that Jesus said, " Sell what thou hast 
and give to the poor ;" Mark's statement is quoted above; 
but Luke says that the command was, "Sell all that thou 
hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have 
treasure in heaven." In this particular case an absolute re- 
nunciation of the world may have been necessary ; but a 
total and literal abandonment of property is clearly not a 
universal Christian duty. The difficulty lay not in the wealth, 
but in the grip which the wealth had upon the man's heart, 
in other words, in his covetousness. No sin is more abom- 
inable in the sight of men than this, when it makes its victim 
a thief, a cheat, a niggard, or a miser ; but none, in other 
phases, puts on more beautiful garments, such as industry, 
economy, care, prudence, enterprise, thrift, all good things 
in themselves ; but all of which may be made the ministers 
of this master passion, which the Bible denounces as idolatry. 
This young man, whose many good qualities won the love of 
Jesus himself, was, in this sense, an idolator. 

Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, pleads with his peo- 
ple in these earnest words: "Lay not up for yourselves 
treasures upon earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and 
thieves break through and steal ; but lay up for yourselves 
treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth cor- 
rupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal ; 
for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." 
There is a perfect consistency between this injunction and 
the case before us. He did not wish to make that young 
man poor. His requirement, to our worldly eyes, it is true, 
looks hard ; but could we see from an angel's stand-point, 
we should discover that it was kind and generous to the last 
degree. He wished the young man to transfer both his treas- 
ures and his affections from earth to heaven; from where 
they could last but for a moment to where they would be 
ever enduring and ever increasing. " He had great posses- 



"WHAT LACK I YET?" 195 

sions," say Matthew and Mark, and Luke tells us that he 
was very rich. So much the better for him had he obeyed 
the Saviour, for his sacrifice would have been so much the 
greater — so much the more good he could have done to the 
poor, and so much the greater would have been his treasure 
in heaven which Jesus promised as a compensation. 

Laying up treasure in heaven, and making friends of the 
mammon of unrighteousness, are two forms of expression 
which we poor sinners durst not have used had not Christ 
himself used them in some of his most solemn injunctions ; 
and it is a sweet thought to the true believer, whom God 
has blessed with large possessions, or upon whom he has 
bestowed the gift or power of rapid acquisition, that he 
can send his wealth before him to heaven, sanctified by the 
blessing of God and the gratitude of those who were ready 
to perish, to wait till he comes, washed in his Redeemer's 
blood and clothed with his righteousness, to take possession 
of it again, and keep it forever. 

But there is another kind of possession which we must all 
renounce before we can enter the kingdom of heaven, and 
that is our own personal righteousness. When the young 
man of whom we are speaking said that he had kept all the 
commandments from his youth up, he thought he was tell- 
ing the truth, for doubtless he had lived a very correct life, 
and was truly an estimable person ; but even had he added 
the generous sacrifice of all he possessed in charity, the next 
step the Saviour required was, " Come, take up the cross 
and follow me." 

"Thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; M but that treasure 
can only be reached through the atoning blood of Calvary 
received by faith alone. Oh ! how ought those awful words, 
so severely true and yet so immeasurably kind, which sent 
that rich young man away in sorrow, and cast a deep sad- 
ness over the soul of Jesus himself, as we may learn from 



I96 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

his own immediate exclamation, " How hardly shall they 
that have riches enter into the kingdom of God l" to sink 
into our hearts ! Let each of us, after this examination of 
this sad and awful incident, ask ourselves, "What lack I 
yet?" 



In his explanation of the Parable of the Sower, Christ 
speaks of some seed which fell among thorns. In the para- 
ble itself this part is given in these sententious and vigorous 
words: " And some fell among thorns, and the thorns 
grew up and choked it, and it yielded no fruit." 

Had our translators used the broader and more compre- 
hensive term weeds it would probably have given to us, in 
our present sense of the words, a more accurate expression 
of the idea ; for we now restrict the word thorns to trees or 
shrubs armed with sharp ligneous spikes ; whereas the growths 
which choke and render unfruitful the valuable plants which 
we sow or plant in fields or gardens are very different, and 
are multitudinous in their varieties and forms. No one 
word reaches so widely over this department of the vege- 
table kingdom as weeds. Matthew tells us that the soldiers 
plaited a crown of thorns and put it upon the head of Jesus, 
and John mentions the same thing. In this case I think tfoe 
word ought to be understood in the same way — that the 
soldiers plucked up some worthless weeds, the first that came 
to hand, of which they made that use, and that this crown 
was an expression of mockery and derision, but not a thing 
of torture. But be that as it may, the thorns of the parable 
are unquestionably something different from the few shrubs 
and trees which bear sharp woody shoots, which we call 
thorns. Our Saviour's own words favor this interpretation, 



"SOME FELL AMONG THORNS." 197 

when he says, " the thorns grew up and choked it. " That 
is the way weeds do; but thorns are perennial, and could 
do no harm unless they were already grown when the seed 
was cast in. Sometimes we see a piece of ground just pre- 
pared for the seed. It looks clean and good ; but soon it 
shows that it is foul with bad seeds, which spring up and 
choke the more tender and delicate plants which we are try- 
ing to propagate. 

But our business at present is with the Saviour's explana- 
tion of the parable, rather than with the figures which he 
was pleased to use. He says : 

u And these are they which are sown among thorns ; such 
as hear the word, and the cares of this world, and the de- 
ceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things, choke the 
word and it becometh unfruitful." — Mark iv. 18, 19. 

He is not here speaking of hardened soil, such as the 
way side, nor of poor, thin, superficial soil found in stony 
places; but of rich, deep soil — soil capable of bearing a 
bountiful crop of weeds — soil which, had it not been preoc- 
cupied, would have borne a plentiful crop of good fruit, and 
which, had it been cleansed of its foulness, would have 
ranked with the good ground of which he afterwards speaks. 

Jesus divides* these injurious products of this foul soil into 
three classes, two specific and one general. Let us consider 
them in their order. 

" The cares of this world." — This does not mean a whole- 
some diligence in business, which Paul lays down as one of 
the duties of a Christian. Nor does it mean that prudent 
care which every good and sensible man takes of whatever 
property a kind Providence may have committed to him, be 
it much or little. But it does mean that anxious and dis- 
tracting care which drives one man to dishonesty, another 
to meanness, another to excessive exertion, another to penu- 
riousness, another to hard bargains and grinding of the 

17* 



I98 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

faces of the poor, and all to hardness of heart and away 
from God. It is the state of mind against which Christ so 
earnestly protests in his sermon on the mount, where he 
says: " Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, 
or what ye shall drink, nor yet for your body, what ye shall 
put on ;" and then goes on to point his people to the fowls 
of the air and the lilies of the field as the objects of God's 
care, and asks, " Are ye not much better than they?" mean- 
ing the fowls. And again he asks, " If God so clothe the 
grass of the field, which to-day is and to-morrow is cast into 
the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little 
faith?" 

All the cares of this world here spoken of have their 
prime origin in unbelief — that form of unbelief which is 
more definitely known as distrust. A man may be thor- 
oughly orthodox in his creed, and yet have no real trust 
in God. The good seed may have fallen into his heart 
and germinated, and he may pass current with his fellow- 
men, and with his own conscience, as a Christian; but he 
bears no fruit. Whatever feeble shoots may spring from 
the good seed are choked by worldly cares ; and, as a Chris- 
tian, he drops into the class spoken of by our Lord in these 
awful words, where he takes to himself the similitude of the 
True Vine: " Every branch in me that beareth not fruit 
he taketh away." 

u The deceitfulness of riches" — There is no delusion that 
ever creeps into the heart of man more common, or more 
difficult to eradicate, than the notion that wealth, whether 
in lands, or merchandise, or stocks, or money, will make 
him contented and happy. Herein lies the deceitfulness of 
which Jesus speaks. Wealth in itself is good, provided a 
man can keep it in its proper place among his treasures; but 
woe to him who makes it his chief good. The rich young 
man who came to Jesus and asked, "Good Master, what 



"SOME FELL AMONG THORNS." 199 

good thing shall I do that 1 may inherit eternal life?" had 
his heart set supremely upon his wealth; and when he found 
that his salvation required the sacrifice of that idol, he went 
away sorrowful, and we are left to the sad inference that, 
notwithstanding all his fine qualities, he was lost. 

Solomon's great mission among men was to "see what 
was good for the sons of men, which they should do under 
the heaven all the days of their life " — to show them, among 
other things, the "deceitfulness of riches. ,, Let us quote a 
few of his words : 

"I made me great works; I builded me houses ; I planted 
me vineyards; I made me gardens and orchards, and I plant- 
ed^trees in them of all kinds of fruits. I made me pools of 
water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees. 
I got me servants and maidens, and had servants born in 
my house ; also I had great possessions of great and small 
cattle above all that were in Jerusalem before me. I gath- 
ered me also silver and gold, and the peculiar treasure of 
kings and of the provinces. I gat me men singers and wo- 
men singers, and the delights of the sons of men, as musical 
instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and in- 
creased more than all that were before me in Jerusalem ; 
also my wisdom remained with me; and whatsoever mine 
eyes desired I kept not from them; I withheld not my heart 
from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my labor; and 
this was my portion in all my labor. Then I looked upon 
all the works that my hands had wrought, and on all the 
labor that I had labored to do, and behold, all was vanity 
and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the 
sun." 

Take this vigorous passage as a definition of what Jesus 
means by the "deceitfulness of riches." Here was a man 
of almost unbounded wealth, to which were added match- 
less wisdom, skill and taste, and a large, active and gener- 
al 



200 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ous spirit. If any man could make himself happy by sur- 
rounding himself with the grand and beautiful things of 
earth, Solomon was that man ; and had he not told us that the 
miserable sum total of all his glory was only vanity and 
vexation of spirit, and that in all he possessed there was no 
profit, we should have come to the conclusion that he was a 
happy man; or as the coarse and the vulgar would express 
it, that he was a " lucky man." 

Extreme cases prove principles. Here was a man who 
had all that he could desire. God poured upon him an im- 
measurable tide of wealth, kept him in peace and free from 
outward trouble, and endowed him with mental capacities 
beyond any other of the sons of men, as if to show us, as 
no abstract declarations could show us, the folly of seeking 
in such things as these our chief good — to show us, as Jesus 
expresses it, "the deceitfulness of riches." Solomon writes 
like a dissatisfied, soured and disappointed man ; and then 
tears his heart away from all this rubbish, and seeks his chief 
good in that which the poorest man may share with him 
equally. In closing the narrative of his own experience he 
exclaims : " Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter : 
Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole 
of man.' ' The word duty is supplied by our transla- 
tors, and contracts and diminishes the grand comprehen- 
siveness of the thought. Had it been, "This is the whole 
life, and glory, and bliss of man," it would have been more 
in accordance with Solomon's magnificent ellipsis, where 
the word man is made to express all that pertains to man — 
his glory, his blessedness, his capabilities, and his unending 
progression. 

This single example, which God himself has given us in 
his Word, is better calculated to impress our hearts and 
show us the deceitfulness of riches than all the abstract homi- 
lies that were ever uttered or penned. 



"SOME FELL AMONG THORNS." 201 

" The lust of other things." — This general clause em- 
braces a vast variety of things. David says in the fourth 
Psalm, " There be many which say, ' Who will show us any 
good?'" One seeks good, and thinks it is to be found, in 
low sensual indulgences and gratifications ; another in 
fine apparel; another in excitement of the mind, and 
greedily devours sensational literature ; another in some ob- 
ject of ambition — to reach some office, whether high or low, 
or to excel his fellows as a scholar, a speaker, or a writer, 
or to achieve some discovery or' improvement in science or 
the arts, and so on to the end of the extensive range. Now 
every one of these things is well enough in 'itself, provided 
we can keep it in its proper place. Our natures require 
some degree of sensual enjoyment, and God has given us 
thousands of things to gratify these natural desires and 
wants. We need some pleasurable excitement and even 
sport ; and many of the best Christians are brimful of pleas- 
antry and humor. The wish to be well clad is right in it- 
self, and is evil only when it becomes the ruling passion. 
The ambition to be called to places of trust, emolument and 
power, or to excel in learning, literature, art or science, is 
even commendable ; and it is only because it is suffered to 
become supreme that it becomes a thorn, an over-shadow- 
ing weed, to shade the Word and render it unfruitful. It is 
not to, be it observed, other things, but the lust of other 
things, of which Jesus speaks — the predominance of these 
other things in the heart. He gives us the rule when he 
says, " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteous- 
ness, and all these things shall be added unto you," mean- 
ing all things that you really need, or that you will in that 
case strongly desire. Then everything will take its proper 
and subordinate place, and not be allowed to over-top, and 
over-shadow, and smother, and render unfruitful the heav- 
enly principle here called the Word. The live Christian 



202 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

does not want to go to the theatre or the ball-room, because 
he has within himself a better source of enjoyment; just as 
the prodigal son, when he got back to his father's banquet- 
ing house, no longer wanted to "fill his belly with the husks 
which the swine did eat" 

We are told that the Lord God put the man into a gar- 
den to dress it and to keep it; and still in a most emphatic 
sense he puts every man and every woman into a garden, 
and that garden is the heart. Into it he casts the good seed, 
the seed which came down from heaven. But in that heart 
are many other seeds, which, if not kept under, will quickly 
outgrow and choke and render unfruitful this precious plant 
of righteousness which springs from the Word of God. Let 
us, then, look well to our gardens, dress them and keep 
them, and keep down every other plant, or weed, or thorn 
that would interpose its shadow between the plant of heav- 
enly origin and the Sun of Righteousness. 



The highest honor ever put upon man was given by the 
Son of God to the poor men whom he had gathered around 
him, when he spoke to them with easy familiarity of God 
as "Your Father." Human thought can no more grasp 
the height and depth, and length and breadth of such a rela- 
tionship, than it can measure immensity, estimate eternity, 
or comprehend the infinite Being who is thus spoken of. 

How is it that God and man are thus brought so near 
together? Is God brought down, or is man raised up? 
God cannot be degraded ; therefore those beings who are 
brought into the relation of children must necessarily be 
exalted. It is simply wonderful ; and John in his first 
epistle so regards it, when he exclaims, " Behold what man- 



OUR FATHER. 2O3 

ner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we 
should be called the sons of God !" He then goes on to 
declare to his believing brethren, " Now are we the sons 
of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but 
we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, 
for we shall see him as he is." Here is not a word about 
condescension on the part of God, either expressed or im- 
plied 1 but all is ascribed to love, boundless love, goodness 
which passes knowledge. That word condescension is a bad 
word in" the heart or mouth of a Christian ; for in our con- 
ception the term is inseparable from some degree of de- 
gradation. When the Great Supreme becomes the Father 
of a believer in Jesus, he does not stoop to do so; but ele- 
vates the pardoned and renewed sinner to the relation of 
an honored and beloved child, giving him glory commen- 
surate with the relation. 

"Make me as one of thy hired servants," was the highest 
aspiration which the prodigal, when returning to the house of 
his injured father, dared to entertain ; but when he reached 
home, he found himself elevated to the highest honor which 
it was in his father's power to bestow. So will the poor, 
trembling, repentant sinner find, upon his entrance into 
his Father's house on high, that his relation to his Divine 
Redeemer has exalted him to a place in the heavenly family 
higher than any mere creature could ever reach. 

" It doth not yet appear what we shall be," writes the 
venerable apostle, who, in the days of his pupilage, was 
" that disciple whom Jesus loved." If he could so speak, 
surely we, whose devotion is so cold, can know but little of 
that wondrous love which sets us among the children of 
God ; still less of those unimaginable things which he has 
prepared for those who love him. 

We know not in this life how much we owe to our Saviour, 
nor will ever we know the full measure of blessing which 



204 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

his perfect righteousness and his atoning death give to us ; 
but it is all embraced in these two words, " Your Father.' ' 
No terms in human language can express greater nearness to 
God than these, or greater exaltation, or more perfect holi- 
ness. But all this nearness, glory and holiness we owe to 
Christ. Washed in his blood, the redeemed sinner is purer 
than any mere creature can be, however innocent. Clothed 
in Christ's righteousness, his glory surpasses the angelic ; 
and being able to claim the son of God as a Brother, the 
Eternal Father becomes his Father in the same sense that 
he is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Are saved sinners more favored, more exalted, dearer to 
our loving Father's heart, and taken into closer relationship 
with him, than any other of his creatures? We have much 
reason to think so. Why? No others cost so much. The 
Son of God took on him our nature, not that of angels. 
Of angels k is written that they are ministering spirits sent 
forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation. 
When speaking to believers of the infinitely great and holy 
God, Jesus uses the simple, familiar, endearing term, " Your 
Father;" and the Father himself testifies that he anointed 
the Incarnate Son, the man Christ Jesus, with the oil of 
gladness above his fellows. Moreover, it is written that 
they are joint heirs with him. 

We know not how deep was our fall, nor the awful import 
of the words, "dead in trespasses and sins;" neither can 
we comprehend the greatness, glory and blessedness of the 
life given to us at the new birth — that life which is hid with 
Christ in God. Hid here means incorporated, blended, 
made one with his own life; hence he says, "as I live, ye 
shall live also." No more can we forfeit our life, as Adam 
did. Never again can we wander away from our Father's 
house, as the prodigal did; "for, (says Paul,) lam per- 
suaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor princi- 



" ARISE, SHINE.' ' 205 

palities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, 
nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able 
to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
Jesus our Lord." 



Two hundred and fifty years ago, when the Bible was 
translated by a body of churchmen under the auspices and 
patronage of King James, the sacerdotalism which had for 
centuries enfettered the Christian world was still strong, 
and to this day believers are not fully emancipated. Hence 
in the headings of the chapters in the sacred Scriptures 
" the church" is often put in the place where the individual 
believer ought to stand. The most striking example of this 
abstractness, where the individual is lost in the general 
mass, is found in the headings of the chapters of Solomon's 
Song, in the text of which the idea of the Church is not found 
in the remotest degree. The strictest individuality of the 
parties is maintained throughout. It is true that in many 
parts of the Scriptures God speaks to the Church, or, more 
properly speaking, to believers in the mass; but even this 
can only be done by reaching each separate individual in 
the mass. The sun does not attract the earth and hold it to 
its orbit as one general globe, but by operating on each 
atom. In the same way the Sun of Righteousness operates 
upon the Church. 

In the sixtieth chapter of Isaiah, from which the in- 
spiring words at the head of this article are taken, the 
Lord is speaking to his people in the mass, and the voice 
comes, as comes the^bright, warm, life-giving beams of the 
sun upon not only the earth at large, but upon each living 
thing, whether vegetable or animal, as separately and dis- 



206 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

tinctly as if it were the only existence on the planet that is 
affected by it. Hence the call, " Arise, shine; for thy 
light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon 
thee," is given to each and every one who hears the Gospel 
and obeys it. Elijah heard it as he lay desponding under 
the juniper tree and -believed that he only was left. The 
individual disciples heard it when Jesus called them. Blind 
Bartimeus heard it when the people said, " Jesus of Naza- 
reth passeth by." Saul of Tarsus heard it on the way to 
Damascus; and of all the great multitude of the redeemed 
in heaven and on earth it can truly be said, each heard it 
separately and alone. 

As a seed buried deep in the soil, cold and dark, responds 
to the power of the great orb whence all natural light and 
life are drawn, so responds the human soul, dead in tres- 
passes and sins, to the power of Him who calls, "Arise, 
shine ; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is 
risen upon thee." No matter what may be the state of the 
church at large ; no matter whether it be as dark and dis- 
couraging as it was in the days of Elijah, or bright as it 
was on the day of Pentecost, still the call comes home to 
the individual with equal force and cheer — " Arise, shine ; 
for thy light is come." 

It is a great and hurtful mistake to confine this exhorta- 
tion and call to some millennial period in the distant fu- 
ture, when the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the 
Lord as the waters cover the sea. Doubtless that period 
will come; but how will it be brought about? By individ- 
uals arising and shining, one by one, until their aggregate 
light shall fill the world with glory. But to arise and shine 
in a dark period, as Elijah did, as many of the old prophets 
did, as our Lord himself did, as his apostles did, as Wick- 
liffe, Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, and Knox did, is a more 
worthy object of a high and holy ambition than to shine in 
the general light of the millennium. 



"PUT ON THY BEAUTIFUL GARMENTS." 207 

" For thy light is come." Is that so? Certainly it is so; 
for Christ is come, and we have his record, his living words 
and his living Spirit ; and greater light than this our world 
will never have. No clearer revelation of truth, no richer 
displays of grace, will be known in the future than in the 
past or the present. We have, it is true, precious and 
oft-repeated promises that their triumphs will be more dif- 
fused and general in the future than they have been in the 
past. Thus, in a secondary sense, may these cheering words 
be applied to the church at large in that day — " Arise, 
shine ; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord 
is risen upon thee." 

But still, O Christian, do not put away these and similar 
gracious declaratious from your own individual self, and 
lose them on the church in general, which to you is but an 
abstraction, an indefinite aggregation, which, taken apart 
from individuality, is as impersonal and soulless as corpora- 
tions are proverbially said to be. You, only you, not the 
church as an organism, a mass, or an abstraction, are capa- 
ble of what is here called for. "Let your light so shine be- 
fore men, that they may see your good works, and glorify 
your Father which is in heaven.* ' 



"The joy of the Lord is your strength/ ' said Nehemiah 
and Ezra to the weeping people of Israel, when they mourned 
before the Lord on account of their own neglect of the law 
which had that day been read and expounded in their hear- 
ing. " Go your way, (said they) eat the fat and drink the 
sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is 
prepared ;" and at the close of their animating exhortation 
they added, "for the joy of the Lord is your strength." 



20o GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Many Christians live as if they did not believe that God is 
good. They pray as if they did not believe in the forgiveness 
of sins, or in the loving kindness of their Heavenly Father; 
but come before him as poor heathen might come to the 
shrine of a malignant deity to deprecate his wrath. They 
speak in their long prayers as if they were very desirous of 
his presence and his blessing, and as if he was unwilling to 
bestow these blessings ; which is the very opposite of the 
truth. What would a generous and loving parent think, 
were his own child to come into his presence, and, in a 
doleful and whining tone, and with cowering gesture, ask 
him for some good gift which he had a thousand times pressed 
upon his acceptance? However much he might pity the 
supplicant, it would be impossible for him to regard him with 
complacency, to smile upon him, to caress him, or to be- 
stow upon him such tokens of his loving-kindness as he could 
and would shower upon another who should approach him 
as a child ought to approach a kind and loving parent. 
God is love, and in all his dealings with us, in his Provi- 
dence, in his Gospel, in the gift of his only-begotten Son, 
in all the declarations and promises of his Word, he is say- 
ing to each of us — not collectively as a church only, but 
individually and particularly, " Thou knowest that I love 
thee." We do know it; but yet, paradoxical as it may 
seem, we do not believe it. The mete knowledge of this fact 
cannot make us glad. It is only when the sweet truth flows 
into the heart, and entwines itself, as it were, among the 
moral fibres of our nature, that it becomes a matter of faith, 
excites reciprocal love, and makes us glad. Then we have 
the joy of the Lord ; then the soul begins to lay hold of 
all the goodness which our God has set before us, and of 
which we ought to partake as freely as our lungs inhale the 
surrounding atmosphere, and with just as little misgiving as 
to our right to do so. Is this disputed ? Then what mean 



"PUT ON THY BEAUTIFUL GARMENTS." 2O9 

these words? " Eat, O friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, 
O beloved!" " Come, buy wine and milk without money 
and without price." "Whosoever will, let him take the 
water of life freely ;" with many other passages of like im- 
port. 

Jesus, in some of his parables, compares the Gospel to a 
feast. It is indeed essential that the guests be clothed in 
the wedding garment; but, having that, what would the 
King think of a guest who would not eat of the rich pro- 
visions of his house, or be glad, on the plea that he was not 
worthy ? What has that to do with it ? The more unworthy 
he felt himself to be, the more the guest is entitled to rejoice ; 
for, with that garment on, all are alike worthy, all are alike 
beloved and honored. Those who feel that they have been 
forgiven much will love much ; for joy is always commen- 
surate with love. See Luke vii. 40-50, for the most beauti- 
ful illustration of this principle that ever was given to the 
world. That weeping penitent, whose life had been one of 
sin and shame, went from that holy presence clad in the 
beautiful garment of her Saviours righteousness, every stain 
of sin removed from her soul, her heart glowing with grati- 
tude and love, and ready to take her place either with the 
saints of earth, or with the spirits of the just made perfect in 
Heaven. What a contrast between her garment and that 
of the self-complacent, cold-hearted, carping Pharisee, who 
scowled upon her and spoke contemptuously of her. Her 
joy was unspeakable and full of glory. He had no joy. She 
felt that she had sinned grievously, and was happy because 
her sins, which were many, were forgiven ; therefore she 
loved much. He loved little, if at all, because he felt that 
he had sinned little, and hardly needed forgiveness. 

It is a grievous error into which many good people have 
fallen, that they still carry the burden of their sins long after 
they have professed to have obtained a good hope through 

18* 



2IO GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

grace. It is well to bear them in remembrance ; but it is 
sinful, it is the fruit of unbelief, to mourn over them as 
though they were unpardoned. Is a debt any longer a 
burden to a man after it is fully paid? Did the burden, which 
Bunyan's pilgrim carried, when he first set out, impede his 
progress or cause him grief after it fell from his shoulders at 
the foot of the cross ? Did he go down into the deep valley 
into which it rolled and disappeared to find it again ? Cer- 
tainly not. Yet he never forgot it. He often spoke of it, 
but always with exultation and joy. Not that he gloried in 
it, but in his deliverance from it ; and very soon he put on 
his beautiful garments, and his Christian armor. His beau- 
tiful garment he carried through all the way to the Celestial 
City. His armor he left in the river. As for his burden, it 
was never seen or felt from the moment it fell from his 
shoulders. 



Mt JfottW of pfe. 

The law of life is set forth in these words of Jesus as we 
nowhere else find it: " As the branch cannot bear fruit of 
itself, except it abide in the vine, no more can ye, ex- 
cept ye abide in me." Again: "If a man abide not in 
me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered, and 
men gather them and cast them into the fire, and they are 
burned." And again: "Except ye eat the flesh of the 
Son of Man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you." 

These figures, drawn from the vegetable and animal king- 
doms, are the same in their import, and express with equal 
force the necessity which the soul of man is under to draw 
its life, and all that nourishes life, from Him, who is the 
great centre and source of life. Separated from the vine, 
the branch withers and dies. Deprived of food, the animal 



THE SOURCE OF LIFE. 21 1 

nature pines away and expires. These are facts so plain, so 
indisputable, that no sane mind would think of disputing 
them; and these the Great Teacher seizes upon to express 
that ineffable union which exists between himself and the 
soul of the believer. In this wonderful exposition of the 
highest and most sublime truth which we can know, and 
which no abstract teaching could enable us to understand, 
it is brought down to the comprehension of the sage and the 
child, the learned and the unlearned alike. It is at once 
the most simple and sublime teaching the world ever heard. 
Faith forms this union ; and in the light of these expressive 
figures we see how it is that the just live by faith. 

Christ says, " I am the true vine;" but he does not say, 
"I am the only vine." There are many other vines; and 
in one or another of these every man is fixed who is 
not abiding in the True Vine. A man may be separated 
from the True Vine, withered, and ready for the burning of 
which Jesus speaks, and yet be followed by loud huzzas of 
popular applause; and from these he draws a fictitious, a 
transient life, and is for the time satisfied. Or he may be a 
withered branch, and yet be profoundly learned, honored 
among his fellow men, and noted for his noble qualities as 
exhibited in public and private life. Or he may be dead, 
and ready for that awful gathering spoken of, while rich in 
this world's goods, living sumptuously every day, and feel- 
ing so full of life and life's joys that he has need of nothing. 

"I give unto them eternal life," says Christ, speaking of 
those who are united to him; but the life which men draw 
from other vines is transient, evanescent, delusive. He 
only is the True Vine in himself; and the life which he 
gives is divine, and endureth forever. In Christ's esteem, 
no life short of this is worthy of the name of life. He 
teaches us that we are destitute of it by nature; that no 
effort on our part can put us in possession of it; that it is 



212 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

found only in himself, and can only be made available to us 
by a true, sincere, self-appropriating belief, not only in re- 
spect to his will and power to save sinners generally, but to 
save us. This faith must come right home to us personally ; 
for a mere abstract belief of the doctrines can do us no 
good. Look at the figure — a branch abiding in the vine, 
and drawing life and strength and fruitfulness from it. What 
relation can be closer, more intimate, or more personal than 
that? , 

" Abide in me," says Christ. It is not enough that we 
abide in the church, however pure and evangelical ; or in 
anything short of the living and personal Son of God, who 
only is the True Vine, in whom alone our life is hid. Were 
we asked to abide in any being less divine, it could not pre- 
serve us from withering and dying; or in one altogether 
divine, it would be impossible to obey. But here is one 
who is at once our God and our Brother — one exactly suit- 
ed to us; for towards him human sympathy and faith in God 
can flow out together, so that we become engrafted into 
him, there to live and flourish forever. The moment this 
union to the True Vine is formed, everlasting life begins. 

In a general sense this principle may apply to nations. 
Christ is ruler among the nations as well as the Saviour of 
his people; and nations, as nations, may have such a union 
to him as will preserve them in life and vigor, so that men 
shall never be called upon or permitted to gather them and 
burn them. Or they may be so far devoid of this union 
that they are quickly gathered and burned. That vital 
union, imperfect as it is, we may devoutly believe, saved 
our country in its recent hour of trial. The fire was great, 
but the bush v/as not consumed. Our national consti- 
tution was in some degree purged of its impurities; and 
our condition is better, not worse, for that tremendous or- 
deal. 



" EMPTY, SWEPT AND GARNISHED.' 213 

Twenty-two years ago France adopted a constitution like 
ours. But France, as a nation, is far from Christ. Its 
vaunted institutions of freedon drooped and withered at 
once, and "the basest of men" was suffered to come in, 
gather them up and burn them. He, in turn, is now polit- 
ically consumed, and the wretched nation which he ruled 
and oppressed for a few years in the midst of flames which 
all the power of the world cannot quench (1871). God only 
knows what the end will be. One thing we do know, be- 
cause he has told us, that he will restrain the wrath of man 
as soon as it shall have accomplished his work and shown 
forth his praise. 

Seeing, then, that not only personal, but social and na- 
tional salvation, depend upon this vital union, how ought 
we to labor to bring this true and omnipresent Vine into 
contact with our own hearts, to hold it forth, before all our 
people, and never cease to labor and pray until the fruit 
which attests this union shall appear abundantly ! 



In one of my Bible class lessons this passage occurred : 
"When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh 
through dry places, seeking rest, and fmdeth none. Then 
he saith, <I will return unto my house from whence I came 
out;' and when he is come he findeth it empty, swept 
and garnished. Then goeth he and taketh with himself 
seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter 
in and dwell there ; and the last state of that man is worse 
than the first." — Matthew xii. 43, 44, 45. 

Never before had the tremendous import of this mysteri- 
ous passage so impressed my mind as when the members of 
the class read these three verses. The gross sinner, re- 



214 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

formed in a measure, but not regenerated, the empty, 
swept and garnished human heart, but still deceitful above 
all things and desperately wicked, darted up before me as I 
had never before seen them. There stood the Pharisee, 
scrupulously moral and immeasurably religious, utterly 
devoid of a single trace of the grace of God — negatively 
good, but positively bad — cold, barren, unholy, unfruitful, 
dead — " empty, swept and garnished." 

What is this unclean spirit which is spoken of as going 
out of a man? Is it some malignant being separate and 
distinct from himself? I think not; but my impression is 
that the gross and carnal appetites and passions of the man 
are here spoken of as subdued. When these are brought 
under the control of the higher reason, the man undergoes 
a reformation of life and manners. He is emptied of his 
gross, natural uncleanliness ; he is swept, and the house, 
which is the figure the great Teacher uses, is put into 
decent order. To drop the metaphor, the man becomes 
respectable ; and we, who can only see the outside of his 
character, admire the change and admire the man. And it 
is right enough that we should do so. The house is more 
than swept ; it is garnished — set off with ornaments and 
decorations. These embellishments are good in themselves, 
and the world rightfully extends to such adornments of 
life and character the meed of praise, and calls it reforma- 
tion. 

But when this is accomplished the spirit walks through 
dry places, seeking rest, but finding none. Why? Because 
the house is empty. It is clean, it is adorned ; but it is 
empty, and the spirit finds nothing in it to satisfy its in- 
satiable cravings. Then is the time for the lust of the flesh, 
the lust of the eye and the pride of life, with their appro- 
priate servitors, selfishness, avarice, ambition, pride — 
spirits more wicked than the lower and grosser propen- 
sities of human nature — to go in and take possession. 



" EMPTY, SWEPT AND GARNISHED. " 215 

The human heart cannot long remain empty. If barred 
against the Holy Spirit, then will spirits more and more 
wicked, in proportion to the expansion of the intellectual 
nature, enter and take and hold possession. Hence it was 
that Jesus told the Pharisees that publicans and harlots 
would go into the kingdom before them. They pretended 
to be righteous men ; and so far as men could see they were 
so. . They were to all appearance exceedingly devout ; and 
doubtless most of them believed that their salvation was 
sure. But they were self-deceived hypocrites, totally igno- 
rant of the power of holiness upon the heart. They were 
" empty, swept and garnished/ ! while their hearts were the 
temples where Satan held undisputed possession. 

It is a fearful mistake to suppose that a mere reformation 
of life and manners will make a man good. There is no 
such thing as a negative goodness. The going out of the 
unclean spirit only leaves the house empty ; and the most 
that man by his best efforts can do is to sweep it and gar- 
nish it. God by his Spirit can alone fill it, and give life 
and peace to the soul, which, when it rises above the status 
of the brute, wanders forth seeking rest and finding none. 
It is to the sinner in that seeking condition that Christ 
says: " Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any 
man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to 
him and will sup with him, and he with me." When he 
enters, the heart is empty, swept and garnished, but he fills 
it. No more hunger then, no more thirst, no more yearn- 
ings after rest which cannot be found, no room there for 
the seven wickeder spirits of which Jesus speaks \ and the 
last end of that man is peace. 

These seven spirits more wicked than the first, who take 
possession of that empty, swept and garnished house, are 
often such evils of the heart as the world tolerates easily. 
Indeed some of them come clothed as angels of light \ and 



2l6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

when the disembodied souls of many who had them for 
guests through life shall pass to the other side and cry, 
" Lord, Lord, open unto us," and plead, " We have eaten 
and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our 
streets " — the fearful response will come, "I never knew 
you." They supposed themselves to be Christians; but 
now they discover that they were only "empty, swept and 
garnished." 



With this fervent aspiration the sacred volume closes. It 
is the response of the beloved disciple, the prophet of Patmos, 
to the declaration of Christ which immediately precedes, and 
where he declares — "Surely I come quickly. Amen." 

Christ comes in many ways and for many purposes. He 
was, and is, and ever will be while this world endures, the 
great Embassador from heaven to earth. He came from 
heaven to take upon him our nature. He came to live a 
life of perfect obedience, for he was made under the law. 
He came to show us how to live, how to suffer, how to die. 
He came to deliver us from the curse; to give his own life, 
for we were dead ; and to redeem us from guilt and wrath 
by bearing our sins in his own body on the tree. He came 
to break our bonds, cleanse our natures, and lead us to 
heaven. 

But it is of other comings that I desire more particularly 
to speak now. 

Where two or three are gathered together in his name he 
comes ; for this he positively promises to do. Let the ever 
ready response of these few humble, contrite, waiting ones 
be, " Even so come, Lord Jesus." 

Often he comes with the rod. He chastens his people for 



"EVEN SO COME, LORD JESUS." 21 7 

their sins ; he dashes in pieces their idols ; he lays upon 
them sore afflictions and trials, not willingly, but for their 
good. Even under the rod we should try to respond in 
the same words, and accept these things joyfully as evi- 
dences of his love. It is to such experience that the apostle 
refers when he speaks of being joyful in tribulation. 

He comes to our hearts in the still, small voice of his 
Spirit, and. says : " Behold, I stand at the door and knock; 
if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come 
in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." To 
these words of wondrous grace let every heart instantly and 
gladly respond, " Even so come, Lord Jesus." 

But Jesus speaks in another place of the same gracious 
visitation to his redeemed ones, whose hearts have been 
opened to him — "If a man love me, he will keep my 
words ; and my Father will love him, and We will come 
unto him and make our abode with him." To this amazing 
declaration of the loving kindness of God our Saviour what 
response can be more fitting, more expressive than this : 
" Even so come, Lord Jesus." 

But the prophet declares that he will come from Edom, 
with dyed garments from Bozrah, glorious in his apparel, 
traveling in the greatness of his strength — treading the wine 
press alone, none being with him — trampling his enemies in 
his anger and in his fury, their blood sprinkled upon his 
garments and staining all his raiment, and crying " the day 
of vengeance is in my heart, and the year of my redeemed 
is come !" To this awful announcement the believer may 
tremblingly respond, " Even so come, Lord Jesus;" for it 
is but another way of saying, " Thy kingdom come." 

And at last, as Jesus himself tells us, " The Son of Man 
shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him ; 
then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory; and before 
him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them 

!9 



2l8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

one from another, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the 
goats." Even in this prospect of the final judgment — "that 
day for which all other days were made" — the Christian, 
secure in the love and faithfulness of Him before whose 
throne he must stand, can, in joyful hope of his blessed 
resurrection, and of his complete and eternal redemption, 
exultingly exclaim, " Even so come, Lord Jesus !" 



(&Mmt at W\\\\\0 wot $mt 

In introducing the long line of ancient worthies, whose 
lives exemplified true faith in God, the writer of the epistle 
to the Hebrews uses this broad, deep and comprehensive 
language : " Now faith is the substance of things hoped 
for, the evidence of things not seen." This is not properly 
a definition, but rather a description, of faith — a general 
summary of the powers and properties of this abstract prin- 
ciple which binds man to God, and, in the lower plane of 
its operations, links man to man in bonds of brotherhood. 

All men exercise faith in something, and to some degree. 
This principle underlies every form of religion, however 
gross or absurd. This going out of the soul after some 
supernal power marks the strongest line of distinction there 
is between man and the lower animals. Paul, when he 
talked to the savans of Athens, spoke of men feeling after 
God — a blind consciousness that they had lost something. 
They had been groping in the dark for ages for their lost 
God — some among the stars, some among the most abom- 
inable things of earth, some in graven images of their own 
making, and some in theories based on the facts of science — 
theories which can go no higher than material and tangible 
things, and which are as devoid of true religious life as the 
graven image of the gross idolator is of natural life. 



EVIDENCE OF THINGS NOT SEEN. 219 

It is to this strong and universal principle that God ap- 
peals when he says, "Look unto me." Man of himself was 
unable to find him; so in mercy he came and made himself 
known. But he did not come within the range of man's natu- 
ral powers of observation, nor of his profoundest inductive 
philosophy; but yet so plainly, so convincingly that "way- 
faring men, though fools, need not err." He presents to 
them such evidence of things not seen that the " feeling' ' of 
which Paul speaks is satisfied, and the Holy Spirit witnesses 
in their hearts that what they believe and trust in is truth. 
That blind feeling which had been groping in the dark for 
something to lay hold of, to lean upon, to trust in, thus be- 
comes a living power, which, in the Scriptures, is called 
faith; and if that natural power might be personified so as 
to speak, its language would be that of the blind beggar to 
whom Christ gave sight — "I was blind ; now I see." He 
had eyes before, but he had no light ; and those sightless 
eyes and those seeing eyes with which that man went and 
came from the pool of Siloam, illustrate the difference be- 
tween that blind feeling and the faith which Christ gives by 
the Holy Spirit to all who believe on him. 

It required the evidence of something not seen to believe 
in Christ, even when he dwelt as a man among men. It 
required the evidence of things not seen to perceive that he 
was the Christ the Son of the living God, and to receive and 
rest upon him alone for salvation ; and so great was this 
faith esteemed even in his own presence, that when Peter 
made this cdhfession, Jesus exclaimed, "Blessed art thou, 
Simon bar-Jona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it 
unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven !" 

When the disciples told Thomas that their Lord had risen 
from the tomb, and that they had seen him, he declared 
that except he should see in his hands the print of the nails, 
and put his finger into the print of the nails, and thrust his 



2 20 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

hand into his side, he would not believe. Poor Thomas ! 
his faith was weak, and the dreadful events of the past few 
days had driven him to the verge of despair. The Lord 
suffered him to abide under this cloud for a week, and then 
came to his relief, offered him the very tests he had asked, 
and then Thomas joyfully confessed his belief not only in 
the resurrection, but in the Godhead of his Lord. Now 
hear the gentle words of that blessed One to his doubting 
friend: "Thomas, because thou hast seen me thou hast 
believed; blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have 
believed/ ' 

When Christ came in the flesh, but few believed on him. 
Isaiah, in prophecy, says: "He is despised and rejected of 

men When we shall see him there is no beauty that 

we should desire him ;" and John, in the opening of his Gos- 
pel, says, " The world knew him not. He came unto his, 
own, and his own received him not." This was true of a 
great majority of his own countrymen. "But as many as 
received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of 
God, even to them that believe on his name." It required 
in the presence of Christ as much faith to receive him as it 
does now when he is not visibly present; perhaps more. It 
required then, as it does now, the evidence of things not 
seen. He can only be received by faith in either case; but 
when received, the right of sonship with God is also secured. 
Then, only then, perfect assurance and rest are attainable. 

Faith, when fixed upon Christ, becomes a higher source of 
knowledge than any or all the natural powers of man can be. 
It lifts its subject to a higher plane, and puts him into vital 
union with the divine. Things not seen, things which lie 
beyond the reach of human investigation, become the sim- 
plest, surest, greatest of realities. We know that these things 
are to the mere scientist foolishness, because he cannot discern 
them \ but to the believer they are as clear as any thing that 



THE PRODIGAL SON — A SERMON. 221 

eye hath seen. In language, than which nothing ever writ- 
ten is more vigorous, Paul gives the culmination of the 
blessed state of those who have received Christ Jesus the 
Lord by faith, and have thus been made God's children : 
" As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons 
of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage 
again to fear, but ye have received the Spirit of adoption 
whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth 
witness with our spirit that we are the children of God ; and 
if children, then heirs; heirs of God and joint heirs with 
Christ." The Spirit of God bearing witness with our spirit 
is the crowning testimony, and is emphatically " the evi- 
dence of things not seen." 



cl Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy 
upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." — Isaiah 
lv. 7. 

This is a glorious text ; but as I am not a preacher myself, 
I shall try to find a sermon to suit it ready made, so that I 
shall have little to do except to put the text and the sermon 
together. The author of the sermon is Jesus, he who spake 
as never man spake, and the sermon is his parable of the 
Prodigal Son. No sermon that ever was preached is so good 
as that, or so exactly suits this beautiful text. 

The text speaks of the wicked, and of the unrighteous 
man. The parable speaks of the same character under the 
figure of a discontented, foolish and rebellious young man, 
a son of a good and kind father. The text speaks of the 
Lord our God, who is merciful and'ready to pardon. The 
parable speaks of the same merciful God under the figure of 



: 



19* 



22 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

a good and forgiving earthly father. The text speaks of the 
wicked forsaking his way, and the unrighteous man his 
thoughts, and returning to the Lord, who is our Heavenly 
Father. The parable tells us how it was done — how the 
unrighteous man returned, and how abundantly he was par- 
doned. Now let us listen to Jesus. 

" A certain man had two sons ; and the younger of them 
said to his father, * Father, give me the portion of goods 
that falleth to me.' And he divided unto him his living." 

This self-willed young man thought if he only had his share 
of his father's estate, so that he could use it just as he pleased, 
he would have such a good time. He did not feel that he 
had liberty enough in his father's house and under his father's 
government. So his father gave it to him; for he did not 
wish to force him to stay with him against his will. Just so 
does God do with his sons and daughters. He gives a great 
many good things — life and health, and strength, and mind, 
and learning, and all kinds of bodily faculties and powers, 
and sometimes money and property, and high social position; 
and then, if they wish to wander away from him, he permits 
them to go and try it, just as the father of this wicked young 
man did. Now let us hear the rest of the story as Jesus told it. 

"And not many days after, the younger son gathered all 
together, and took his journey into a far country, and there 
wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had 
spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land, and he 
began to be in want. Then he went and joined himself to 
a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to 
feed swine. And he would have fain filled his belly with the 
husks which the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him." 

Before he left home he was sure that he knew better than 
his father did what was good for a young man. He wanted 
to see the world; he wanted to enjoy himself; he wanted to 
have plenty of sport. And now he danced, he sang, he 



THE PRODIGAL SON — A SERMON. 223 

laughed, he feasted, and perhaps drank, and very likely he 
soon learned to swear. Of course he was not happy ; for 
such things never did and never can make anybody happy. 
But he rushed on, and never thought of stopping as long as 
his money lasted. So wicked boys and girls, and men and 
women almost always do, until their youth, and strength, 
and character, and their ability to enjoy themselves are gone. 
Oh ! what a miserable thing is a worn-out sinner ! Do you 
want to see a picture of one ? Look back to what Jesus 
says of that poor foolish man who is out in the fields among 
the swine, so hungry that, if he could only do it, he would 
eat w T hat they ate. 

But now we shall find something better. Let us read on. 

"And when he came to himself, he said, * How many 
hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to 
spare, and I perish with hunger ! I will arise and go to my 
father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against 
heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called 
thy son; make me as one of thy hired servants.' " 

It is thus that the wicked man forsakes his way. His way 
had led him far from home, and into want and wretchedness. 
This is repentance. Thus the unrighteous man forsakes his 
thoughts, and returns unto the Lord. But will the Lord 
have mercy upon him ? Will he abundantly pardon ? We 
shall see. Jesus will tell us how that good old man received 
that wicked, wandering son. 

"And he arose and came to his father" 

Now, suppose that he had only wished that he was at 
home ! Suppose that he had done nothing more than cry 
out in his bitter anguish — "How many hired servants of 
my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish 
with hunger?" Would that have done him any good? Cer- 
tainly not. Or suppose he had said, "I will go to my father," 
and still did not go. Would that have saved him from perish- 
ing ? Not at all. 



224 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Then, Jesus says, " He arose and came to his father. But 
when he was a yet a great way off, his father saw him, and 
had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed 
him." Thus God our Father sees his wandering children 
while they are yet a great way off; and he hastens to meet 
them, — not when they say, "we will arise and go to our 
Father," but when they do arise and go to him. Then it 
is that he has mercy upon them. Then it is that he abund- 
antly pardons. Now let us hear Jesus again : 

"And the son said unto him, ' Father, I have sinned 
against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to 
be called thy son.' " 

Now mark : the son found his father so much kinder than 
he expected, or had dared to hope, that, although he truly 
confessed that he was not worthy to be called a son, yet he 
felt that he was a son, dearer than ever; and not a word does 
he say about being made a hired servant. So the penitent 
sinner, when he feels and knows that his sins are forgiven, 
and that God loves him, confesses that he is not worthy of 
the least of the mercies granted. Still he cannot bear the 
thought of anything less than a child's place in his Heavenly 
Father's heart and in his family. Now let us see how glad 
the father was at the return of his prodigal son. 

M But the father said to his servants, ' Bring forth the best 
robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hands and 
shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf and kill 
it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead 
and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found.' " 

Such is the picture which Jesus gives us of the forgiving 
grace, the loving kindness, the tender mercy of our Father 
in heaven. Oh ! sinner, arise and go to him, for this is the 
way you will be received. Go and be washed in the blood 
of Him who spake this parable, and who has prepared for 
you that best robe. He will be glad to see you coming, 



LOOKING UNTO JESUS. 225 

and you will find him kind beyond anything you ever 
imagined. 

Or would you rather stay, and feed swine, and starve, and 
perish ? Your Father God gives you your choice. He calls 
you ) he waits for you ; but until you arise and turn your 
face towards him, he cannot run to meet you ; he cannot 
have mercy upon you; he cannot abundantly pardon. 
Neither can he give you that kiss of reconciliation, nor 
that best robe, nor that ring, nor that feast, nor the place 
of a son or a daughter in his family. 



"And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, (says Jesus,) 
will draw all men unto me." To this great saying John im- 
mediately adds: "This he said, signifying what death he 
should die." 

That, doubtless, was its primary intent ; but in the dis- 
course of the Saviour to Nicodemus, where he says: "As 
Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the 
Son of Man be lifted up ; that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish but have eternal life," the fullness of his 
meaning is revealed. 

Now let us transport ourselves to the camp of Israel. It 
was while that unbelieving and rebellious host were on their 
slow and devious pilgrimage that God in righteous judgment 
sent the fiery serpents among them, and many of the people 
were bitten, and many died. The sting of those serpents 
was deadly. No remedy could be found. What medical 
skill may have been among them would be taxed and ex- 
erted to the utmost by some, while others would put forth 
all their energy to extirpate the deadly reptiles. But none 
of these expedients was of any avail. It was man's ex- 



226 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

tremity ; it was God's opportunity. This was one of the 
earliest practical lessons on record that "the just shall live 
by faith." 

When there was no eye to pity and no arm to save, God's 
own arm brought salvation, and he brought it in a way 
which no man would ever have thought of. Moses was 
commanded to make a brazen image of the very thing that 
was destroying the people. So was Christ made in the like- 
ness of sinful flesh. The serpent thus made was reared aloft 
upon a pole, and made so conspicuous that all the people 
could see it. So was Jesus lifted up on Calvary. This done, 
messengers would be sent to run to and fro throughout the 
'widely extended camp, proclaiming, "Look upon yonder im- 
age of the fiery serpent; for thus saith the Lord, ' every one 
that is bitten, when he looketh upon it shall live.' It is a 
sure remedy; it is the only one. Look, and be saved." This 
prefigured the great command : "Go ye into all the world, 
and preach the gospel to every creature." 

Some who heard the message would believe and obey, as 
some hear and obey the gospel message. Others in fever 
and delirium, would pay no attention to it. Others would 
look upon the proposed remedy as an absurdity, and cling 
in fond and delusive hope to the nostrums of their own de- 
vising. Some, believing themselves to be too far gone to 
warrant them in entertaining hope, would not so much as 
lift their languid and despairing eyes to the divinely ap- 
pointed means of cure. 

Thus, not only was the brazen serpent a type of Him 
who was lifted up for the salvation of all the dying members 
of our race who can be persuaded to look; but the poisoned 
camp of Israel, in that dreary region, was a type of our 
world. It was by faith that the dying Israelite turned his 
languid eye upon that uplifted serpent ; and to every one 
who thus looked God said in the result, "thy faith hath 



LOOKING UNTO JESUS. 227 

saved thee." So he says now to all who will look by faith 
upon Him who was lifted up, "that whosoever belie veth in 
him should not perish, but have eternal life." 

The messengers whom Moses sent throughout the afflicted 
camp, would have but one message and one exhortation. 
Their message.would be to tell the dying of this God-ap- 
pointed remedy, and to point to it, as John pointed to the 
Lamb of God ; and their only exhortation would be "Look ! 
look ! n It is very likely that these messengers, as they ran 
to and fro would often encounter one another ; and it is also 
very probable that there would often be found several of 
them together, so that in the mouth of two or three wit- 
nesses every word might be established. But it is not at all 
probable that these men — and perhaps women too — would 
stop by the way and fall to wrangling as to the precise way 
in which the sufferers were to look — whether they should 
rise to their feet or get upon their knees, or lie still upon 
their couches. Whether they should look over the right 
shoulder, or the left, or straight before them; or whether all 
or only a fixed and specified number could be benefited. 
Neither is it likely that they sat down to speculate upon the 
connection there was between that serpent of brass upon 
the pole and those deadly reptiles that had got amongst 
them, and which all felt and deplored. It was enough for 
them to know that God had said, "Every one that is 
bitten, when he looketh upon it shall live." 

These messengers, while imploring the dying Israelite to 
look, would be very careful not to put themselves between 
the eye of the sufferer and the object of his salvation \ and 
if the poor creature had surrounded himself with his own 
stuff, they would labor to remove it; for everything depended 
upon his getting a clear and unobstructed view of that ob- 
ject. And again : When these messengers encountered in 
their walks any of these fiery flying serpents, as they doubt- 



228 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

less often did, they would feel that it was not their business 
to start off in a fruitless pursuit of them. They would know 
and feel that that was not their mission. Their business 
was to point to the great uplifted remedy, and bid the peo- 
ple look. 

The application of the lesson which God has given us in 
this incident in the strange, eventful life of the wandering 
Israelites is so obvious, especially in view of the use which 
Jesus himself makes of it, that every reader can see it for 
himself. 

Thus may we look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of 
our faith, who, for the joy that was set before him, endured 
the cross — to Him who came to be lifted up, as Moses lifted 
up the serpent in the wilderness. 



The grapes of Palestine were very good, and the culture 
of the vine was a common industry among the Jews ; hence 
our Saviour often took the vine, the vineyard, and the fruit 
of the vine as illustrations of the kingdom of heaven, 
and even of himself, where he says, "I am the True 
Vine." 

In his parable of a man hiring laborers to work in his 
vineyard he teaches us several important truths, prominent 
among which is the great fact that the reward is of grace 
and not of merit; for the employer of the laborers is rep- 
resented as giving to those who began at the eleventh hour 
the same wages as he agreed to give to those who went in at 
the first hour. To all he paid the full hire, whether they 
went in at the first, the third, the sixth, the ninth or the 
eleventh hour — to each man a penny. 

This, to us, seems to have been very low wages; but what is 



THE VINEYARD. 229 

here called a penny was a Roman silver coin called denarius, 
(from dent, ten) worth in our currency about fifteen cents. 
One of these coins is in the cabinet of the United States 
mint in Philadelphia, bearing the same image and super- 
scription to which Jesus pointed when he asked his crafty 
enemies, who tried to entrap him in the matter of the 
tribute money, " Whose image and superscription is this?" 
and they were constrained to reply, " Caesar's." It is a 
coin very much like the old Spanish i2j£ cent piece once 
so common in this country. But in those ancient times the 
purchasing power of such a coin was very much greater 
than it is now, and would be nearly equal to a dollar in our 
day. The good Samaritan is represented by the Saviour as 
taking two of these coins out of his purse and giving them 
to the host to pay him for taking care of the robbed and 
wounded man whom he had found on the wayside. It is 
well enough to know these things. 

It pleased our divine Teacher to illustrate the calling of 
sinners into his kingdom, his service, his church, by this 
transaction between the proprietor of the vineyard and 
those who labored in it. These men went in, not to rest, 
but to labor. Not to eat grapes, but to receive their re- 
ward at the end of the day. Their business was not to 
enjoy the fruit of the vines, but to do all in their power to 
put the vineyard in a condition to bear much fruit. They 
went in to labor, not to lie down and rest in that safe and 
pleasant place ; and they did labor until they were called 
to their reward, whether the time was long or short. 

There is instruction here for all who enter the Master's 
vineyard, and for all who are already in. Are we labor- 
ing ? or are we sitting down at our ease, trying to find 
some of the refreshing fruit of the vineyard before the 
time? It is bad to be standing idle in the market place; 
but it is worse to go into the vineyard, with a promise of 

20 



230 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

labor, and there stand idle. The Owner of the vineyard 
in his goodness goes into the market place to see if he can 
find some poor creatures who have had no call, even to the 
eleventh hour. But the idler in the vineyard, who has en- 
gaged to labor faithfully and does it not, is treated as a 
hypocrite, and receives a hypocrite's reward. 

Many go in with the delusive notion that there is noth- 
ing to be done but to gather grapes and rest themselves ; 
forgetful that the Master calls them in to labor according to 
their several abilities, with a full assurance that they shall in 
no wise lose their reward. 



No teacher ever used such simple figures of speech as 
Jesus. Instead of puzzling us with deep, dark, abstract 
discussions of the nature of the relations which we sustain 
to God and he to us, he points us to the most familiar things, 
and so teaches us the profoundest truths by analogies which 
a child can comprehend as easily as a sage. All his para- 
bles are of this nature, and are so simple, and their analogy 
to the truths set forth so perfectly obvious, that the poor un- 
lettered reader, who can just make out the words, or he 
who can only hear them as read by another, can reach the 
precious and saving truth — truth which the profoundest 
learning and the most laborious investigation never did 
and never could otherwise reach. What amount of abstract 
reasoning could have ever arrived at the disclosure of the 
mercy and love and forgiveness of our Father in heaven 
towards a repenting sinner which we find set forth in the 
parable of the Prodigal Son, in terms of which Nature^ in 
its best and truest affections, is the interpreter? 

But it is of another class of figures of speech which we 



KNOCKING AT THE DOOR. 23 1 

wish to speak, and only one of the class— " knock." When 
we wish to gain admission to the house of a friend, the 
common rule the world over is to knock, and that knock is 
the well-understood expression of the desire of the one who 
stands outside that the occupant shall of his own good will 
open the door and admit him. A bell, now so common, is 
but a modification of the knocker, and a knocker is but a 
contrivance to save the knuckles of the party desiring to 
enter. The good old way, and the mode in the mind of 
the Saviour when he used the word figuratively, and the one 
to which we necessarily resort at a majority of doors to this 
day, is to strike the door with the knuckles. But to rap 
against the door with anything that will cause a slight noise 
is to knock. 

A knock is a notice to one friend that another desires to 
enter, or at least to see him or speak with him. It is of the 
nature of a petition. The party inside is supposed to com- 
ply with the well-understood request or not as he sees proper. 
It is the very opposite of force or violence. The party in- 
side is, for the time being, a sovereign in the case, the other 
is a supplicant, no matter what their relative positions might 
be in other places. 

When our Saviour says, " Knock, and it shall be opened 
unto you," he exhorts and encourages us to go to his door, 
and assures us that if we do so we shall not be repulsed. 
This is amazing grace and kindness on his part; and had he 
gone no farther we should not have imagined that he could 
have gone farther. The one who knocks is in the attitude of 
a supplicant; and to be assured by Him who is the giver of 
every good and perfect gift, that if we come to his door and 
knock it shall be opened unto us, ought surely to take us 
all there. But it does not. Thousands make light of it, 
and would rather have something else than the pure and 
holy gifts he bestows upon those who do go. The world has 



232 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

many doors at which they prefer to knock. Some are afraid 
to go, because they feel that they are not good enough to 
enter that door, or even to knock at it; forgetting that 
pardon and grace and holiness are the very things that are 
to be obtained there, and can be found no where else. 
Bunyan gives an affecting account of the overwhelming fears 
of his young pilgrim Mercy at the wicket gate ; of the 
vigor with which she knocked when she did begin ; and of 
the great kindness of her reception. Timidity, however, slays 
few. Worldliness and carelessness are the ruin of millions. 
Jesus knew that it was not enough to ask sinners to knock 
at his door, although assuring them that none should ever 
knock in vain. He therefore changes places with them, and 
himself becomes the knocker, the supplicant. Here are his 
words : 

" Behold, I stand at the door and knock ; if any man 
hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, 
and will sup with him, and he with me." 

O careless, thoughtless ones, think of God your Saviour 
coming to you ; knocking at the door of your heart for 
admittance ; beseeching you to open it that he may come 
in to do you good, to make you holy and happy, to save 
you from sin, and from death the wages of sin, to have 
sweet fellowship with your spirit, and to fit you for heaven, 
where you will see him as he is and be ever with him ! He 
stands at the door and knocks ; but the opening of that 
door must be your act, not his. He does all he can to make 
you willing. He tells you what he intends to do for you if 
you let him in ; but it is impossible for him, in the relation 
he now bears to you, to open that door. You yourself must 
be willing. His willingness, even his intense solicitude — 
for his words indicate nothing less — will not avail. 

Such is Christ's relation to you while he waits to be 
gracious. You will not knock; but he does. You will not 



KNOCKING AT THE DOOR. 233 

pray to him ; but he prays to you. He asks for nothing 
but your love, your faith, your confidence. All he asks is 
that you open the door and receive him as a friend who 
comes laden with precious gifts. He comes and only asks 
permission to give you, as he himself expresses it, " gold 
tried in the fire that thou mayest be rich, and white raiment 
that thou mayest be clothed." 

But this posture of affairs cannot last beyond the brief 
term of your probation. Hear what Jesus himself says : 
" When once the Master of the house is risen up and hath 
shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without and to knock 
at the door, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open unto us/ and he 
shall answer and say unto you, ' I know you not whence ye 
are V " Do you expect, after refusing to know the Saviour, 
or hold any communion with him at all — after keeping the 
door barred against him during life, although open to almost 
everything else — that a death-bed cry of "Lord, Lord, open 
unto us," will avail you? The Lord himself declares that 
it will not. " I know you not," will be an awful reply to 
prayers deliberately or thoughtlessly postponed to the last 
moment. 

A very different knocking will then and forever assault 
those hearts which would not heed the gentle voice of the 
pitying, pleading Saviour, even anguish and terror and a 
fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, un- 
mingled with mercy. He offered pardon, but it was scorned ; 
he -offered heaven, but the world was preferred; he offered 
himself, but Satan had greater charms for them as he came 
bedecked with the pleasures and profits of this world. Christ 
proposed to make them joint heirs with himself, but they 
declined the offer ; and the only alternative is joint heirship 
with the great adversary. It is their portion; and by keep- 
ing that door barred against the Friend and Saviour of 
sinners they fitted themselves for it. 

20* 



234 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Let us close with the sad and sorrowful words of God 
through Moses, as he contemplated the heedlessness and 
obstinacy of his people whom he would gladly have saved 
if they had only been willing: "O that they were wise, 
that they understood this, that they would consider their 
latter end !" 



That is a very remarkable utterance of our Saviour, just 
at the close of the parable of the Unjust Judge, where he 
says: "When the Son of Man cometh, shall he find faith on 
the earth? 1 ' It seems to be an assertion in the strongest possi- 
ble form that at that coming the faith of his people will be 
at the lowest ebb, and not an inquiry to which he expected 
a reply. 

But of what coming does he speak? for on that turns the 
meaning of the passage. Or does he speak of any one par- 
ticular coming ? I think not. He has already come many, 
many times to deliver, to revive, and to bless his people, 
collectively as his church, and individually as his children. 
When he tries them by sore chastisements, and by leaving 
them for a time, as he often does, to walk in darkness, faith 
almost expires, as it did in the heart of the injured widow 
who went daily with her petition to the unjust judge. Then 
he comes and gives comfort, deliverance, light and joy. 
Then faith revives and becomes a power in the soul. All 
true believers understand this experience. 

When Abraham took the knife into his hand to pierce the 
heart of his beloved son, his faith had done its utmost. It 
was enough. Then the Son of Man came and delivered 
him, and sent him and Isaac on their way rejoicing. When 
Israel fled from Egypt, they were led to the sea shore in a 



THEME FOR SERIOUS THOUGHT. 235 

pent-up place between the mountains of Pi-hahiroth and 
Baal-zephon, with the sea before them and an enraged ty- 
rant with his army behind them. Then the Son of Man 
came, but he found no faith. Even Moses himself seemed 
to be in despair. But he gave deliverance by opening a 
way through the sea, and put a new song in their mouths. 
What seemed to have been a trap for them proved to be a 
trap for their enemies. So he comes to his people under all 
circumstances and in all ages, whether to assembled Israel 
on the sea shore ; to the agonized father of the faithful on 
the mount of sacrifice; and so he comes to all his lowly 
hidden ones, in their hours of sore trial and expiring faith. 
Thus he makes good his promise — "I will not leave you 
comfortless; I will come to you." 

But are we yet over the entire length and breadth of this 
profound declaration? for, although put in the form of an 
interrogation, it is not a question. There are times when 
the drift of things in the world beats with such tremendous 
force against Christian faith as to threaten its utter extin- 
guishment. Such was the state of things through what we 
call the mediaeval period, when error, and superstition, and 
mummery, and heaven-daring assumption of spiritual power 
had well nigh swept true faith from the earth. A few faithful 
but almost hopeless souls still clung to Christ and cried, as 
did that poor widow, that God would avenge them of their 
adversaries. Then, at the right moment, the Son of Man 
came, and the great Reformation was the result. "The just 
shall live by faith, " became the exultant cry of emancipated 
millions — of generation after generation up to our day. 

During the dark ages a thick cloud gathered over the 
earth, and the human mind lay fettered as in a dungeon. 
Now we are threatened with danger of an opposite kind. 
Then the adversary crushed the race down to slavery and 
chains; now his tactics are to cast off every yoke, even the 



236 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

easy yoke of Christ. He claims to be our Master, and will 
not abate his claim; and all who take his yoke upon them 
find that it is easy, that his burden is light, his service per- 
fect freedom. But within a few years human pride has laid 
hold of the beauties of Christ, and like the excited crowd at 
Jerusalem, who cut down palm branches and strewed them 
in the way, they are crying " Hosanna to the Son of David," 
a sentimental hero, while scornfully ignoring his yoke as 
degrading, and his cross as foolishness — honoring this great- 
est and purest of characters in a patronizing way, so as not 
to bring any humiliation or subjection upon themselves. 
This new view of the great Philanthropist and Teacher is 
not Christianity, but Humanitarianism, the "enthusiasm of 
humanity," as Professor Seelye calls it. It is intermixed 
with much of the fashionable literature, both prose and 
verse, which is pouring upon the world like a flood. It is 
the offspring of the dazzling and bewildering light of the 
nineteenth century, combined with what passes current for 
philosophy. Repentance, faith, prayer, self-denial, and all 
the humbling graces are thrown out of this scheme, if scheme 
it may be called. 

The adversary, during the eighteenth century, waged a 
fierce and direct warfare against Christ. By some of his 
agents he was denounced as a deceiver ; by others the au- 
thenticity of his history was assailed. Infidelity was then 
bold and undisguised. But the experiment of a century 
showed Satan that that kind of warfare would not avail ; for 
Christ's kingdom in the world grew mightily in the face of 
these fierce assaults. Now he has thrown away his sword 
and has grasped a palm branch, and his voice mingles with 
that of his pseudo worshipers in shouting hosanna to the 
King, but not to the Saviour; to the purest, wisest, greatest 
of men, but not to God manifest in the flesh; to an imagin- 
ary being, but not to the Christ of the evangelists, whose 



THEME FOR SERIOUS THOUGHT. 237 

stern words to those who only cry "Lord! Lord!" are, 
" Depart from me ; I know you not." 

We cannot exaggerate the beauty and loveliness of Christ; 
nor his love to those for whom he died; nor his kindness to 
those who gathered around him in the days of his flesh, and 
to those who believe in his name and trust in him for salva- 
tion from sin in all ages ; neither can we exaggerate his terri- 
ble holiness and severity as our Sovereign, our Lawgiver, and 
our Judge. " He that believeth shall be saved, he that believ- 
eth not shall be damned," are fearful words; yet they were 
uttered by the same lips which poured blessings on the meek, 
the poor in spirit, the pure in heart, the peace-makers — by 
the same lips which said, "Where have ye laid him ?" and 
then wept with the bereaved sisters — the same which said 
to his sad and troubled disciples, "Peace I leave with you, 
my peace I give unto you ; not as the world giveth give I 
unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be 
afraid." No being of whom we have ever heard is at once 
so lovely, benevolent, merciful, and terrible as Christ. No 
words that ever reached human ears are so kind, and yet so 
fearful, as his. Such is the Christ of the evangelists, " glori- 
ous in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders." 

Contrast that Christ with the pretty, bedizened Christ of 
polite literature, "so sweetly mawkish, and so smoothly 
dull," so soft, so weakly kind, that all are by him alike be- 
loved ; but rising no higher than a bright example, an em- 
bodied sentiment — a kind of link, nobody can tell how, be- 
tween heaven and earth, between God and man. Christ, 
who knew what was in man, wept over Jerusalem the very 
moment when her enthusiastic populace rushed out to wel- 
come him with shouts and palm branches. And when, it 
may be, some of the same people, two days afterwards, cried 
"Away with him ! Crucify him!" he opened not his mouth. 
In neither case did they know what they did. So it is with 
these superficial admirers of a sentimental Christ. 



238 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

How is this dangerous and soul-destroying assault upon 
Christian truth to be met ? Only by getting back to the 
feet of Jesus as he is set before us in the simple narratives left 
by the four evangelists, and letting his words sink deeply 
into our hearts. Only by doing his will ; by taking up his 
cross and following him. By accepting with the same readi- 
ness his severe and humbling commands and declarations as 
we do his most kind and gracious precepts and promises. 
We must go to him as lost sinners, not as sentimental ad- 
mirers and flattering courtiers. We shall not then carry 
Christ into the opera, nor the opera into our churches; 
neither will we throw around him a gorgeous robe of our 
own fabrication which can only hide from our eyes the true 
glory of his character as the Holy One of God — " merciful 
and gracious, long suffering, and abundant in goodness and 
truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, 
transgression and sin, and who will by no means clear the 
guilty. " We shall, in a word, regard him just as he is set 
before us by the inspired record, as Jesus, so named be- 
cause he saves his people from their sins, not in their sins. 

It may be well that the attack of the adversary has taken 
this form ; for it will drive true Christians back to the source 
of all religious knowledge; back from philosophical specula- 
tions; back from the teachings of schools however excel- 
lent; back from the worldly vanities which have long been 
gathering around our most sacred services; back from mere 
creeds, however orthodox ; and leave us no place to go but to 
Him whose words are spirit and life. " To whom shall we 
go," said Peter, "for thou hast the words of eternal life?" 

Then he will come to his people; for he only can roll back 
this delusive light, this ignis-fatuus from the earth, this form 
of error so flimsy, so unsubstantial, that no logic, or argu- 
ment can grapple with it; for it has no definite shape, and 
can only be dislodged from the hearts which it has entered 



BUILDING A HOUSE. 239 

by the Holy Spirit. Sore trial of some kind will doubtless 
be made instrumental in casting out this evil spirit, and 
bringing the whole world, as the restored demoniac was 
brought, to its right mind, and to the feet of Jesus. For 
we may be very sure that our Redeemer will not fail nor be 
discouraged till he has set judgment in the earth. 



§ttiMittfl a grouse. 

Every human being who has sufficient length of days and 
mental capacity to form any character at all is building a 
house, and that house is founded either upon a rock or upon 
sand. There is but one Rock — "none other name under 
heaven is given among men whereby we must be saved." 
But this fact does not shut up our sinful race to narrow 
metes and bounds in the matter of salvation. All are in- 
vited to come to this Rock, to build upon this sure founda- 
tion. The language of the Saviour could not be more 
comprehensive — "Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine 
and doeth them." The same great and precious truth is 
elsewhere taught under another expressive figure — " Whoso- 
ever will, let him take the water of life freely." Many a 
doubting, despairing soul has drunk in rich comfort from 
those all-embracing words — " Whosoever will !" 

But to recur to the figure first quoted. Paul, in a very 
instructive passage, (i Cor. iii. n)says: "Other founda- 
tion can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ." Yet in the same connection he gives this preg- 
nant warning : " Let every man take heed how he buildeth 
thereupon." He then goes on to speak of the kind of ma- 
terials which even real believers, who have reached the 
rock, use in the superstructure. On one side he puts gold, 
silver, precious stones — expressive of things which Jesus 



240 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

calls treasures in heaven, and which he exhorts his people 
to lay up for themselves. On the other hand he uses the 
striking figures of wood, hay, stubble — things of little 
value— transitory and perishing, and fit only to be burned. 
" The fire " he adds, " shall try every man's work of what 
sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built 
thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work 
shall be burned, he shall suffer loss ; but he himself shall be 
saved, yet so as by fire." 

Be saved, yet suffer loss ! Saved, yet have no treasure 
in heaven ! In the light of what Paul here says, we can 
see what Peter means when he talks of the righteous 
scarcely being saved ; and in another place of an abundant 
entrance "into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ." Paul and Peter are at perfect 
agreement, although the latter says nothing about building 
a house. Still he speaks of the same things which Paul 
calls gold, silver, precious stones. He tells believers in 
Christ how to build. Hear him : "And beside this, giving 
all diligence, add to your faith, virtue (courage, firmness) ; 
and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; 
and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, godliness ; 
and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kind- 
ness, charity." Very likely Peter was not thinking of a 
house when, under divine guidance, he wrote these words ; * 
yet see what a beautiful edifice he has erected — strong and 
solid near the base, bringing in brighter and brighter 
graces as he ascends. Here are no wood, hay and stub- 
ble — nothing for the fire to consume. 

Lot was a righteous man, but he builded wood, hay and 
stubble all his life. His flocks fed in rich pastures, and it 
is probable that he became wealthy in Sodom, the home of 
his choice, and at last was saved as by fire. The house 
which he built was a bad one ; but no worse than many a 



BUILDING A HOUSE. 241 

professed Christian is building to-day. Abraham, on the 
other hand, put into his house much gold, silver and pre- 
cious stones, and his record and his example have blessed the 
world for more than three thousand years, while he is repre- 
sented as heading in heaven the great army of the redeemed. 
The house which David built, notwithstanding the turbu- 
lent life he lived, was gemmed with precious stones, in the 
light and beauty of which many generations have rejoiced; 
while his son Solomon, with all his advantages, began in 
early life to build wood, hay and stubble — the most mag- 
nificent structure of the kind that man ever built. But ere 
he died he denounced his work as vanity and vexation of 
spirit and of no profit. He was a bad builder nearly all 
his life ; but finally he finished his house with some imper- 
ishable gems. His is a grand yet lamentable record ; and 
never dare we class him with distinguished saints. 

Mary and Martha were both building vigorously on that 
day when the first sat at Jesus' feet and heard his word, and 
the other was a careful and troubled about many things." 
Martha, with all her care and kindness, was building per- 
ishable things ; but Mary's work will endure forever, the 
Master himself being judge. 

The widow who cast her two mites into the treasury built 
well. Her record upon earth is great, although we know 
not her name. But it is written in heaven ; and the gold, 
silver and precious stones into which her little gift was trans- 
muted are her heavenly treasure, which moth and rust can 
never corrupt. 

Paul, during his laborious life as an ambassador of Christ, 
built the richest house of which we have any knowledge ; and 
death, which separates the worldling from his wealth, and 
drives him from his loved abode, put the devoted apostle in 
possession of his. We are all familiar with the exulting cry 



21 



242 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

with which he entered his house on high, and received from 
his Lord the crown of righteousness. 

So much for building on the Rock. But alas! for those 
who build upon the sand ! No matter of what sort it is, 
whether honorable or dishonorable, beneficent or injurious, 
whether a rude and unsightly pile of rubbish, or a beautiful 
edifice adorned after the similitude of a palace, if not founded 
upon the Rock, it must be swept away in irremediable ruin ; 
for it is written, " other foundation can no man lay than 
that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." Philosophy claims to 
have laid many solid foundation's j but none has really been 
found yet. Doctrines and theories framed by mere human 
wisdom are ever shifting, ever changing, even under our 
eye. How then must they appear to the eye of Him who 
sees the end from the beginning ! There is one Rock, the 
Rock of Ages, and there is no other. " But let every man 
take heed how he buildeth thereupon. 1 ' 



There are many passages of Scripture which go to estab- 
lish the absolute divinity of our Lord ; but I know of none 
more thoroughly satisfactory than the three last verses of 
the eleventh chapter of Matthew, especially the first of the 
three: " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest." No being less than divine 
would have dared to utter such words as these. No man, 
no angel, no created being, however exalted and mighty, 
has power to make good such a promise as this. A man or 
an angel might say, " God will give you rest;" but Jesus 
says, " / will give you rest." It is the voice of God himself, 
speaking for himself, and promising what he alone can give. 
The promise is to all that labor and are heavy laden. There 



THOUGHTS ON A PRECIOUS PASSAGE. 243 

may be millions of such at the same moment, scattered all 
over the earth, so that Omnipresence is implied in the 
promise. In this sense it agrees with that other great saying 
of our Lord, " Where two or three are gathered together in 
my name, there am I in the midst of them;" and with 
that other, " Lo, I am with you always." 

The thing promised is rest. This does not mean a cessa- 
tion from labor, but peace, quietness of spirit, comfort — 
freedom from perturbation, anxiety, apprehension, doubt 
or dread. Peace is the most comprehensive term, and one 
which Jesus often used : < ' Peace be unto you, ' ' was his saluta- 
tion to his troubled disciples when he appeared to them after 
he rose from the tomb. Nothing could be more fitting, for 
they were terribly troubled and agitated by the awful scenes 
through which they had just passed. On the night on which 
he was betrayed he said to them — and his words are living 
and abiding words, coming home to every heart which is 
turned towards him — " Peace I leave with you, my peace I 
give unto you; not as the world giveth give I unto you." 
He really gives it. The world promises peace, but gives it 
not. This brings us back to the rest promised in the text — 
a premise which God alone has power to make good. 

Yet it is plain from what immediately follows that it is not 
God in his absolute character who is speaking ; but only 
Jesus of Nazareth, the man of sorrows of whom Isaiah 
speaks — who carried through his mortal life the awful burden 
of a world's guilt, together with all the sinless infirmities of 
humanity — a pure and holy being who was laden with more 
guilt than any who ever walked this earth. " Take my yoke 
upon you," he says, "and learn of me, for I am meek and 
lowly in heart." Only a man could use such language as 
that, as only God could use what immediately precedes it, 
or utter the promise which immediately follows — "and ye 
shall find rest unto your souls." Here we see the divine 



244 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

man, the incarnate God, the great Mystery of Godliness, 
set forth in a light so clear that to see the one nature we 
must see both. In adoring wonder let us cease to speculate, 
or to make any attempt to separate them even in thought. 

Then he adds, "For my yoke is easy and my burden is 
light." Why is he able to add these comforting words? 
Because he himself bore our griefs and carried our sorrows. 
He took our yoke upon him; he bore our guilt and the re- 
sultant sorrows. That was a burden which required infinite 
strength to bear ; and when we contemplate the awful scene 
in Gethsemane we see that even that strength was taxed to 
the utmost. But he bore it all, and triumphed both there and 
on Calvary. Hence the burden he lays upon his redeemed 
people is light, and his yoke easy. Jesus paid it all. His 
yoke and his burden give rest instead of labor and sor- 
row. When the burden of sin fell off Bunyan's pilgrim at 
the foot of the cross, he went on his way light and joyful, 
bearing only the armor of a Christian warrior. That was 
the only yoke which Christ gave him to bear. That easy 
yoke, that light burden, afford the only rest that it is pos- 
sible for a sinner to have; for it is written, "there is no 
rest, saith my God, to the wicked." 

That great burden-bearer was God, the Logos, the Word, 
who was made flesh and dwelt among us. He was also the 
most perfect of men — not a man united to God, but was 
himself God — "God manifest in the flesh," and subject to 
all the conditions of humanity. "Great is the mystery !" 
exclaims the apostle \ and when we contemplate it, let us 
"only believe," and not attempt to explain it, or theorize 
upon it. Let us not say that it is God in union with man, 
for "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." Yet 
infinitely great as lie is, he himself testifies that he is meek 
and lowly in heart ; and we know that of all the beings who 
ever walked this earth, none ever sorrowed or suffered as he 



THEY SHALL SEE GOD. 245 

did ; none were so heavy laden. Hence it is that he can 
say to the poorest and the weakest, " Learn of me." 



Ifal) SMI m M. 

Like Jacob's Ladder, the blessings which Christ pro- 
nounces upon class after class—beginning with the poor in 
spirit and ending with the pure in heart — ascend in beautiful 
gradation from earth to heaven; from the first glimmering 
of light to perfect day; from a perception of the poverty, 
nakedness, and emptiness of self to a glorious revelation 
of the fullness of God. In a few words our great Teacher 
carries us up from "Blessed are the poor in spirit; for their's 
is the kingdom of heaven," to "Blessed are the pure in 
heart; for they shall see God." 

We know that we cannot see God as we see one another, 
and as we see visible and tangible objects, be our moral 
purity what it may ; for he is a spirit. But does it therefore 
follow that the blessing here promised is unattainable in this 
life? I think not. David says, "I have set the Lord al- 
ways before me " — as an object upon which he steadily kept 
his eye; and under the influence of that strong faith he 
bursts out in a glad and triumphant song of praise. Ke 
saw God. 

Does the purity of heart here spoken of imply perfect 
holiness? Certainly not. We can find the key to the term, 
and its safest definition, in these other words of Jesus, "If 
thine eye be single thy whole body shall be full of light;" 
and we read of eminent and devoted Christians in the early 
Church who "did eat their meat with gladness and single- 
ness of heart, praising God." The eye and the heart are 
here convertible terms, and so are singleness and purity. 

In his message to the Church of the Laodiceans, Christ 

21* 



246 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

says, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man 
open the door I will come in to him, and will sup with him, 
and he with me;" and surely that heart where he is the hon- 
ored and supreme guest must be pure in the sense we are dis- 
cussing; and the soul thus open to him is in possession of 
the blessing promised to the pure in heart. 

The reason why we fall short of this crowning blessing is, 
that we suffer so many things to usurp God's place in our 
hearts. We fail to keep our eye single. Martha was care- 
ful and troubled about many things, while Mary sat at her 
Saviour's feet and heard his word. The first could not see 
God at that time, although she was a good woman ; her sis- 
ter did, and was commended by her Lord for choosing the 
good part which should not be taken from her. While we 
are in Martha's condition we are not pure in heart, nor is 
our eye single, nor is our body filled with light; but when 
we become like Mary, our hearts are pure, we are full of 
light, and that light is God. 

Hear what Jesus says about seeing our Father God : 
"Havel been so long time with you, and yet hast thou 
not known me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen 
the Father; and how sayest thou then, ' Show us the Fa- 
ther ?'" 

Whatever displays it may please God to make of his glory 
to the redeemed in heaven, it is a precious truth that in the 
present life the believer can see God by faith, and rejoice 
in the light of his countenance. But to do so he must climb 
above the world and its cares, desires, passions, ambitions, 
hopes and fears. Then, and only then, can he set the Lord 
before him; then, and only then, can he see God. 



COMMUNING WITH GOD. 247 

The offering of prayer, however sincere, does not of it- 
self rise to the dignity of communing with God ; much less 
does the utterance at stated times of a form of words. To 
commune requires two parties, and these two or more must 
be at substantial agreement, in friendly accord. It means 
to converse, to confer, to talk together familiarly. Hence 
communing is familiar converse, private intercourse, where 
both the parties bear a part. 

Is it possible to commune with God in that way? Cer- 
tainly it is, for Jesus promises to every one who will open 
the door to him, "I will come in to him, and will sup with 
him, and he with me." As this supping together is not to 
be taken in the gross and corporeal sense of the term, it 
must mean familiar converse, private intercourse. Let us 
make only one more citation on this point. 

While Jesus was talking familiarly with his disciples at 
the last supper, one of them asked him, "Lord, how is it 
that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the 
world?" Rarely has a more pertinent or more important 
inquiry been propounded than this ; and the wonderful re- 
ply of the Master shows us that the mind of the questioner 
was guided by the Holy Spirit. Here it is: "If a man 
love me he will keep my words ; and my Father will love 
him, and we will come unto him and make our abode with 
him." 

Surely those who love each other and have their abode 
together will have much familiar, confidential, sympathetic 
converse. The heart of the man who loves Christ and keeps 
his words will often rise towards him in strong and sincere 
desire, "uttered or unexpressed;" and the Divine response 
will come as fresh and with as lively power as if it were 



248 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

uttered for the first time, in some gracious promise, some 
word of peace, some assuring declaration, written in the 
Holy Scriptures long centuries ago, but which are as new 
and fresh as ever. These never grow old. These are the 
things of Christ which the Comforter stands ever ready to 
show unto us. 

I always feel a reluctance to speak of my own experience ; 
but pardon the mention of a single incident. A good many 
years ago, through inability to sell what I had to sell, I 
found myself unable to purchase supplies pressingly needed 
by my own family and others who were working for me. I 
labored all day in vain, and retired to my chamber at a hotel 
under that cloud. Prayer was all I had left. I knelt, but 
before a word rose to my lips, the divine declaration, 
"Your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of 
these things," struck upon my heart, as the ringing, cheer- 
ing voice of a friend at hand would strike upon the ear. I 
knew that it was not an audible voice ; but the effect was 
the same as if it had been a voice from heaven. The assur- 
ance was complete. Anxiety gave place to deep gratitude 
and peace. My prayer was anticipated. I had nothing 
more to ask. I then laid down and slept as soundly as I 
ever did. The next morning, without any difficulty I got 
what supplies I needed. 

But I have not yet reached what I was mainly aiming at, — 
I mean the thirty-second Psalm. It is so rich that a volume 
might be written upon it without exhausting it; yet if care- 
fully pondered it hardly needs any comment. In the first 
six verses, David speaks of his own experience as a penitent 
and burdened sinner, and also of the misery he felt, so long 
as he withheld a full and frank confession. At the seventh 
verse commences a loving converse between him and his 
God. David speaks in the fullness and gladness of his 
heart. Faith and love being in lively exercise, the two 



THE GREAT PHILANTHROPIST. 249 

graces, operating together, result in joyful assurance, which 
he thus expresses: "Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt 
compass me about with songs of deliverance. " To this God 
responds: "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way 
which thou shalt go; I will guide thee with mine eye." 
Then the Divine Party in the communion continues: "Be 
not as the horse or as the mule which have no understand- 
ing, whose -mouth must be held in with bit and bridle, lest 
they come near unto thee." 

Apply to this last verse of counsel the words, "I will 
guide thee with mine eye," and then see how God draws and 
guides his people without resorting in the slightest measure 
to what we call force. The choice of both the communing 
parties is alike free. They are mutually elected. Yet it 
remains true that salvation is all of grace — "not of works, 
lest any man should boast," — and that while one of the par- 
ties is nothing, the other is all in all. David then closes 
this communing Psalm with some fervid utterances on the 
blessedness of the man who trusts in the Lord. 



11 My delights were with the sons of men." — Prov. viii. 31. 

This is a very remarkable expression. Who is speaking ? 
It is Wisdom personified. Not an abstract thing ; not a 
principle embodied and set forth in allegorical guise ; not 
a beautiful myth, whose birth-place was the brain of a 
poet; but a true, living, acting personage — one who has a 
history of his own — a real being, distinct from every other 
being. 

What is his history ? It is given briefly and eloquently 
in the chapter from which we have quoted. "The Lord 
possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works 



250 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

of old. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, 
or ever the earth was When he prepared the heav- 
ens I was there; when he set a compass upon the face 
of the depth ; when he established the clouds above ; 
when he strengthened the fountains of the deep ; when he 
gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass 
his commandment ; when he appointed the foundations of 
the earth ; then was I by him as one brought up with him ; 
and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him \ 
rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth ; and my delights 
were with the sons of men." 

Can the one who here speaks be an abstraction, a princi- 
ple, an attribute, or even an angel? No ; but a greater 
than any of these is here. In language equally eloquent, 
but with greater brevity and strength, John also carries us 
back to a past eternity when he says: "In the beginning was 
the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was 
God." These two sublime passages agree. They both speak 
of Christ ; and in prayer (John xvii. 5) he himself speaks to 
his Father of the glory which he had with him before the 
world was. In the light of these three passages we have the 
fullest assurance that he who says that his delights are with 
the sons of men is none other than the Son of God. 

Think of these words. Consider the great fact here de- 
clared. It is more than mercy. It transcends mere com- 
passion. It rises far above pity. It goes beyond generous 
bounty, however boundless. It is complacency; it is delight; 
it is love in its fondest and sweetest sense. It is in one 
place spoken of under the image of conjugal affection. "As 
the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so will I rejoice over 
thee." Maternal affection is also used to illustrate this com- 
placent love of Him who bore our sins in his own body on 
the tfee ; and in one of the prophets the Lord says, " He 
will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy ; he will rest 



THE GREAT PHILANTHROPIST. 251 

in bis love, he will joy over thee with singing. " — Zeph. 
iii. 17. 

Many cold, sad, drooping Christians tremblingly hope for 
mercy, for pity, for pardon ; but they would deem it awful 
presumption to suppose that God himself delighted in them 
even as a bridegroom delights in her whom he has taken to 
his bosom, or as a mother's affections go forth to the child 
of her love. Yet it is even so ; and it is our fault, not his, that 
we do not daily enjoy the sweet consolation which such a 
trust would afford, were it heartily received. 

This great truth is calculated to give us an exalted idea of 
the completeness of the work of redemption. In ourselves 
there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that God can delight 
in ; but when we become new creatures in Christ Jesus, then 
we are sharers in his righteousness, and are viewed only 
through that medium. That infinite eye which sweeps at a 
glance through both time and eternity, sees the believer, 
not only in this poor, struggling, sinful life, full of the cor- 
ruptions which he is slowly and painfully overcoming, but 
a perfect conqueror in heaven, pure as Immanuel himself, 
crowned with a righteousness absolutely perfect, and in his 
measure as lovely as He is who visited and redeemed his 
people, and who has put his own beauty upon every one of 
his ransomed ones. Taking this range of thought, we can 
easily conceive how dear to the Saviour are his people, and 
how it is possible that his delights can be with the sons ot 
men. Balaam had a glimpse of this glorious vision which 
is ever before the eyes of Him who sees the end from the 
beginning, and who sees the sinner that believes in Jesus 
perfectly redeemed : " He hath not beheld iniquity in Jacob, 
neither hath he seen perverseness in Israel. The Lord his 
God is with him, and the shout of a king is among them." 



252 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

mux mmut. 

The steady advance in the power and perfection of as- 
tronomical instruments enables men to learn more and more 
of the existing conditions of the other members of our solar 
system. The first question which rises in the mind of a think- 
ing person is, " Are they, like the Earth, theatres of vegeta- 
ble and animal life, and abodes of intelligent beings?" 

Of Mercury we know very little, other than that the fervor 
of the sun's rays there is such as to render the natural econ- 
omy which is found here impossible; and it may be that the 
same is true with regard to Venus. The bulk of the latter 
is almost the same as that of the Earth, and the length qf its 
day nearly the same ; but were the Earth transferred to the 
orbit of Venus, all life would cease under the four-fold heat 
of the sun. 

The Moon, so far as the most careful observation goes, is 
destitute of water, and is very nearly, if not totally, devoid 
of an atmosphere ; and small as it is, it revolves but once on 
its own axis in about twenty-nine days, the same time ex- 
actly that it requires to travel in its own orbit around the 
Earth. All is barrenness, desolation and death — intense 
heat alternating with intense cold, but neither affecting any- 
thing. No soil, no sand — nothing but rugged, jagged and 
unchanging rock, just as it chilled and hardened long, long 
ago, leaving the traces of the expiring ebullitions of the 
slowly cooling mass in those deep, dark caverns and circular 
mountains, which tower higher above the general surface 
than do any mountains on this globe. 

Mars, which revolves around the Sun in an orbit forty 
millions of miles beyond that of the Earth, is a comparatively 
small planet, being only about one-ninth of the volume of 
the Earth; but being comparatively near, and presenting to 



OTHER WORLDS. 253 

us, as Venus docs not, a full illuminated disc, it can be more 
minutely examined than any other of the planets of our sys- 
tem. In some respects it bears a remarkable resemblance to 
the Earth. It has an atmosphere in which clouds float. It 
has seas— more in number, but much smaller, than those of 
Earth— which have been mapped and charted, as have its 
continents. It may have rivers ; but of course they cannot 
be seen \ neither could vegetation be discovered at so vast a 
distance, if any exists. The periodical increase and diminu- 
tion of extensive tracts of whiteness around the polar re- 
gions, show that there is snow on Mars as well as on this 
globe. 

But the ruddy color of that planet, where it is not cover- 
ed with snow, indicates the absence of vegetable life, such 
as we are familiar with; and if that be lacking, then animal, 
breathing life cannot exist. As theie is water, there may 
be aquatic animals; but beings such as man there cannot be. 

The Sun's rays on Mars, as compared with those which 
fall upon the Earth, are as two to five. It is too cold, there- 
fore, for such vegetable and animal life as we have in this 
world ; and though an atmosphere, and water, and clouds, 
and snow are seen to exist ; yet as the color which would 
indicate the existence of extensive vegetation is lacking, we 
are constrained to give up the pleasant hypothesis that Mars 
is an inhabited world like ours. 

But can it be that God would make so many worlds in 
vain ? it may be asked. In asking such questions we know 
not what we are saying. Suppose some intelligent being 
had been making a tour of observation through the universe 
at the time when this beautiful world of ours was "without 
form and void," and darkness and hideous desolation brood- 
ed over it, millions of years ago perhaps; and after looking 
at it year after year, and century after century, had asked 
the same question,- would it have been wise? These sur- 

22 



254 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

rounding globes, with the millions of other systems of which 
we know nothing, except that they lie scattered all around 
us in the immeasurable fields of space, are not made in vain, 
even though man be the only intelligent material being that 
is yet warmed and enlightened by this sun. God has un- 
limited duration in which to operate, as well as unlimited 
space ; and in this vast universe he will forever display the 
glory of his wisdom and power. It may be that this world, 
the theatre of the incarnation of the Son of God, by whom 
the worlds were made, stands first in the order of these works 
of his hands. Who can tell what deep and mysterious 
meaning lies in these words which our incarnate God ap- 
plies to himself — "The beginning of the creation of God'? 
(Rev. iii. 14.) Unquestionably the words refer to his rela- 
tion to our race, both in person and in office, and not to 
his absolute divinity. No matter how far back we may 
count in geologic periods; for these were but preparatory 
to the great development ; and so it may be that this world 
of ours — this world wherein the Son of God became flesh 
and dwelt among us — has the pre-eminence among the 
countless multitude of worlds which we see around us. 
What the other planets of our system may become in the 
unlimited hereafter, we know not; but this we know, for 
God himself has told us, that here, in our world, He who 
has all power in heaven and in earth, took the nature of 
man upon him, and with that nature ascended to the throne 
of the universe clothed with omnipotence, and having a 
name which is above every name. Through Christ, man is 
lifted to the highest rank among created beings, although 
every one may for himself take Job's language on his lips 
and say, "Behold, I am vile !" 

As the outer and greater planets of our system are yet 
void and covered with the thick darkness of their own vast 
and dense atmospheres, just as this world was when the ac- 



THE MILLENNIUM. 255 

count of the creation given in the first chapter of Genesis 
begins, so in this sense may we, without violence to either 
science or revelation, entertain the belief that our race, in- 
cluding our adorable Lord, are "the beginning of the cre- 
ation of God" — the beginning so far as material beings 
capable of knowing and worshiping him are concerned. 

If so, think what scenes lie before us in the never-ending 
future, as order after order of glorious creatures shall be 
called into being, and possibly we, as the nearest of kin to 
the great Master of all, may be, under him, their teachers 
and benefactors. But it is not good to speculate too much. 
Still John, when he exclaimed, "It doth not yet appear 
what we shall be," only that "we shall be like him," gives 
a great impulse to the believer's imagination. 



®\u PitUmmtm, 

I have recently been reading a volume of upwards of five 
hundred pages, entitled "Maranatha" (the Lord, or our 
Lord, cometh), by Rev. James H. Brookes, of St. Louis, in 
which the author labors to prove that the latter cFay glory of 
the Church, the triumph of truth over error, the period of 
universal peace on earth — of which many of the prophets 
speak in language too plain to be misunderstood, and to 
which the hopes of nearly all Christians are directed — cannot 
come until Christ shall come the second time in person to 
reign visibly upon the earth. Those who hold this view are 
called Pre-millenarians, while those who hold the opposite 
view are known as Post-millenarians, meaning those who 
believe that the personal appearance of Christ " the second 
time unto salvation" will not occur until after the Millen- 
nium. 

Many excellent men, some of whom I have known, hold 



256 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the views of this author ; but, so far as I have examined 
their arguments, I think they have failed to establish their 
position. 

The term Millennium simply means a period of a thousand 
years; nothing more. As used in the sense before us it rests 
solely upon the remarkable prediction found in the 20th 
chapter of Revelation, in these words : "And I saw an angel 
come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless 
pit, and a great chain in his hand ; and he laid hold of the 
dragon, that old serpent, which is the devil and Satan, and 
bound him a thousand years, and cast him into the bottom- 
less pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he 
should deceive the nations no more till the thousand years 
should be fulfilled; and after that he must be loosed a little 
season." No other Scripture gives any intimation of the 
duration of that happy period. 

He would be a bold and presumptuous man who should 
undertake to tell us what all these tremendous metaphors of 
the angel, the chain, the key, the dragon and the bot- 
tomless pit, mean. The period, twice mentioned, is plain 
enough ; but doubtless a large specific number is here used 
to express a long period, long enough to make the righteous 
and the saved greatly outnumber the wicked and the lost. 

The other figures — be they what they may — are mani- 
festly expressive of influences and forces from heaven — re- 
pressive, restraining forces — acting upon agents of evil, and 
not gracious influences acting upon the hearts of believers. 
The passage is restricted to the removal of obstacles to the 
advance and triumph of truth, and the suppression of all 
manner of error, deceit and lies, whether entrenched in 
heresy in the church, in dark idolatry and superstition, or 
in bold philosophy and science, falsely so called, which end 
in infidelity. 

But in order to get a safe and sober idea of the Millen- 



THE MILLENNIUM. 257 

nium, that glorious period of a thousand years, as it is 
called, we must bring the light of other prophetic Scrip- 
tures to bear upon it ; such, for example, as these : 

" The knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as the 
waters cover the sea." Of this knowledge Jesus says in his 
great intercessory prayer, " This is life eternal, that they 
might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom 
thou hast sent." 

"Unto him shall the gathering of the people be." — Gen. 
xlix. 10. " All shall know thee from the least to the great- 
est." Jesus, in a transport of triumph, just before he suffered, 
had his eye fixed upon that period of which the prophets so 
often spoke — one of them in the words just quoted — that 
period which to us seems so remote, but to him so near: 
" Now is the judgment of this world ; now shall the prince 
of this world be cast out ;" (that dragon which John saw 
chained and cast into the bottomless pit) "and I, if I be 
lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." 

" They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy moun- 
tain." This harmonizes with the angelic song : " Glory to 
God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward 
men." 

" He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass, as 
showers that water the earth. In his days shall the right- 
eous flourish, and abundance of peace so long as the rnoon 
endureth. He shall have dominion from sea to sea, and 

from the river to the ends of the earth All 

nations shall serve him." (Psalm lxxii.) " And he hath 
on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of 
kings and Lord of lords." — Rev. xix. 16. 

"And it shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out 
of my Spirit. upon all flesh; and your sons and your daugh- 
ters shall prophesy." — (Joel.) "In the last days it shall 
come to pass that the mountain of the house of the Lord 

22* 



258 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

shall be established in the top of the mountains, and it shal 
be exalted above the hills, and all people shall flow unto it; 
and many nations shall come and say, Come, let us go up 
to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God 
of Jacob, and he will teach us- of his ways, and we will 
walk in his paths ; for the law shall go forth of Zion, and 
the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge 
among many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off; 
and they shall beat their swords into plough-shares and their 
spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up a sword 
against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." — 
Micah. 

In all these glowing predictions of the triumphs of the 
Prince of Peace, and many others like them, there is not 
the slightest intimation of a personal, visible presence in 
the world on his part, nor of anything miraculous, nor of 
any change in the administration of the kingdom of heaven 
as it now exists in the world. The binding of the great 
dragon, the arch enemy of God and man, for a thousand 
years is tantamount to a promise that evil influences and 
agents, both human and diabolical, will then be greatly re- 
strained, so that the Gospel shall have free course and be 
glorified, the world be enlightened, and all men be drawn 
to Jesus as he exultantly declared that they should be. 

But still it will remain with our race, as David declared it 
to be with him — " Behold I was shapen in iniquity, and in 
sin did my mother conceive me." Still will it be true that 
except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of 
God. Still will the just live by faith. Still will the prayer 
of Jesus go up to the Eternal Throne, "Sanctify them 
through thy truth; thy word is truth." Still will it be true 
that in the world God's people shall have tribulation. Still 
will they pray, " Lead us not into temptation, but deliver 
us from evil." Still shall men be obliged in the sweat of 



THE MILLENNIUM. 259 

their face to eat bread. Still will they marry and be given 
in marriage, and thus multiply and replenish the earth, and 
subdue it. (The work of subduing one another will then be 
over.) Still will the tear of natural affection, but not of 
hopeless grief, be shed over the ashes of the departed ; and 
still will the hope of a glorious immortality, a better life 
than is found even in millennial glory, buoy up and make 
glad the departing spirit of the saint. 

"The grace of God which bringeth salvation" will be the 
same then that it is now, and eternal life will begin then, as 
it does now, in the new birth, and believers must walk by 
faith as they do at present. The conditions will not be 
changed at all; but the results so glowingly depicted by 
the prophets will be brought about by the Word and the 
Spirit, just as the same agency has quickened millions in the 
past and present generations who were dead in trespasses 
and sins. 

Whatever the binding of the dragon for a thousand 
years may mean, it is manifestly an exertion of the divine 
energy upon the powers of evil, an overcoming of oppos- 
ing forces, a removal of obstacles both human and satanic, 
so that human hearts will almost universally be ready to re- 
ceive Christ and the things of Christ as they are freely of- 
fered in the Gospel, and pressed upon their acceptance by 
the Holy Spirit. 

When Jesus of Nazareth walked among the people of his 
day as a man of sorrows, poor, humble and despised, it re- 
quired as much faith to receive him as the promised Messiah 
as it does now ; perhaps more. Then as now the just lived 
by faith. But should he come, as our Pre millenarian 
friends believe, arrayed in power and glory, all the condi- 
tions of the kingdom of heaven upon earth would be 
changed. Faith would then be impossible; for as well 
might we talk of our belief in the existence of the sun 



260 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

when he is shining in noon-day splendor as an act of faith, 
as to call that faith which believes in an all-glorious Being 
who is visible to our eyes. How could sinful mortals born 
under such circumstances be saved ? Hear what Jesus said 
to Thomas : * ' Thomas, because thou hast seen me thou hast 
believed ; blessed are they that have not seen and yet have 
believed.' ' If that view of the Millennium be correct, then 
we learn from what the Saviour said to Thomas that those 
who shall not see that day are more blessed than those who 
shall. Jesus was not mistaken when he said, " It is expedi- 
ent for you that I go away." 

The gracious appliances of the Gospel are all complete. 
They need no addition, no amendment. God's power over 
the prince of darkness is absolute, and so it is over all the evil 
powers of earth. In his word he has promised to give the 
heathen to the Son for his inheritance, and the uttermost 
parts of the earth for his possession ; and in the chaining 
of the devil we see the coming of Him who is mighty to 
save, saying to his long afflicted people, "Arise, shine; for 
thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon 
thee." 

The Millennium is nothing more nor less than a universal 
revival of religion which shall be maintained throughout 
many generations, the whole earth being filled with light 
and love and peace — no hurting or destroying in all God's 
holy mountain. The very implements of warfare are to 
be changed to peaceful uses, and war is to be learned no 
more. 

"After that he (Satan) must be loosed a little season." 
The event — which is still very remote — must show what 
this strange prophecy means. I know of no key to it in 
the Holy Scriptures. But it strikes my mind as being in 
direct conflict with the notion that during the period under 
consideration Christ will be personally and visibly present 
upon the earth. 



THE MINUTENESS OF THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 261 

Should that period be such as is here supposed, and the 
church, the family, and the peaceful avocations of life go 
on as at present, and at the same time all destructive and 
hurtful evils be banished from human society, the popula- 
tion of the globe will be enormously increased, so that the 
number who shall live during that time will vastly exceed 
that of all preceding generations. Even now, notwith- 
standing the drawbacks of war, intemperance and other 
evil and vicious practices, Christian nations are advancing 
rapidly in population. But were the people of the world 
all righteous, and living in harmony among themselves, 
and in obedience to the laws of Nature and of God, 
the ratio of increase would be greater still by far. This is 
a pleasant thought ; for it removes the painful impression 
that only a comparatively small minority of our race will 
reach the mansions of the blessed. 



When Jesus tells us that a sparrow cannot fall to the 
ground without our Father, and that the hairs of our head 
are numbered, that is, that the number of our hairs is known 
to him, we are not to understand him as simply announcing 
these two facts, which, taken in themselves merely, are of 
but little practical importance. In these wonderful declara- 
tions lie put down these two landmarks by which we may 
know how 'far the divine knowledge and government extend. 
The concrete, in its minutest form, is put for the abstract, 
which is infinite in its extent, all-embracing, and from 
which it is impossible that anything can be excluded. 

Our minds often dwell upon the greatness of God; but 
our conception of what constitutes greatness may be very 
imperfect and one-sided. The common idea is that it is 



262 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

something opposed to smallness, minuteness. Some minds 
can see greatness in the sun, which is more than thirteen hun- 
dred thousand times the bulk of our earth* they can see it 
in the vast sweep of the planets around this central orb; they 
see it in the millions of the fixed stars, each a sun, and prob- 
ably the centre of a system like ours, scattered through the 
immensity of space ; and still more in those immeasurably 
distant nebulae — other aggregations, it may be, of suns like 
this of which our own sun is one. Truly the term great is 
justly applicable to these things. 

But when the mind traces the evidences of divine power 
in this direction until it is overwhelmed with the idea of 
yastness, it is difficult to maintain at the same time a con- 
ception of the still more overwhelming greatness of the mi- 
nuteness — if we may so speak — of God. We see him on 
the one hand stretching creation, with suns and systems, 
through spaces which to us are infinite. Then we turn from 
the telescope to the microscope, and see him forming beau- 
tiful animal organisms so minute that it requires a thousand 
of them to equal a grain of sand in bulk; and still we have 
not discovered the boundary in either direction. 

The terms great and small, far and near, many and few, 
are necessary to us; but to the Infinite God there are no 
such terms. No size, no distance, no number, can be either 
great or small to him; and not a creature he has called into 
existence, whether an archangel or an animalcule, is for One 
moment forgotten by the great Father of all. But let us not 
infer from this that all are alike great or small, and of equal 
value in his eyes. The great Teacher has taken care not to 
let us fall into that error. "Fear not/' says he, "ye are of 
more value than many sparrows" In his eyes, we may be 
sure, everything which he has made is estimated at its prop- 
er value; and the value he sets upon man may be estimated 
by the price he paid for his redemption. 



THE MINUTENESS OF THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 263 

Nothing in the universe is so extended, and at the same 
time so minute, so penetrating, so all pervading, as the di- 
vine government and agency. Natural laws, as we call 
them, and millions upon millions of other agents, are in 
perpetual activity; but not in one of these operations is 
God excluded or absent. A sparrow cannot fall without 
him. Jesus selected the sparrow to set forth this great truth; 
but had he chosen a gnat or a worm, the abstract would 
have been the same. 

The Scriptures are equally explicit with regard to the 
minuteness of God's knowledge of the workings of every 
human mind. "Thou understandest my thoughts afar 
off/.' that is, before we ourselves are conscious of them. 
"There is not a word in my tongue but, lo, O Lord, thou 
knowest it altogether.'* Well might the Psalmist exclaim, 
"Such knowledge is too wonderful for me!" 

Jesus tells us that God clothes the grass of the field, and 
feeds the fowls of heaven. A scientist would tell us that 
both these acts are but the operations of the laws of Nature; 
and were he content to leave the matter just there, he might 
not be far wrong. But most of those who aspire to guide 
the thoughts of mankind, speak of those laVs as if they were 
self-acting and independent; and that consequently all 
things fall out in accordance with general laws, and not by 
the special direction of the Supreme Ruler. It is just here 
that the minds of men find their greatest difficulty in think- 
ing and judging of the events which are transpiring around 
them. As they seem to arise from a concatenation of natu- 
ral causes, or human agencies, the hand of the Prime Mover 
is not observed, and is often not acknowledged — sometimes 
denied. 

Natural causes or forces, and the active operating power 
of God are really one and the same thing. This truth Jesus 
teaches us in the little concrete examples he has chosen in 



264 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the cases of the sparrow, the hairs of our head, and the grass 
of the field clothed in glory and beauty surpassing anything 
that Solomon could boast. Under his teaching the rule of 
Chance is utterly excluded. No event, however apparent- 
ly fortuitous or unimportant, can transpire except by the 
direction of the Divine Will. The Bible is full of direct and 
indirect assertions of this universality of God's government; 
and not a sentence can be found to warrant us in believing 
that even a dry leaf, fluttering in the wind, can alight here 
or there by chance. This minuteness of the divine govern- 
ment is even more awful than its vastness. To him who 
knows that he is at peace with God, and who can in filial 
confidence approach him as his reconciled Father, it is a 
delightful thought, and ought to banish from his mind all 
fear, distrust, and anxiety. It is the erroneous notion that 
they are, to some extent at least, under the dominion of 
chance, and subject to the operation of blind natural forces, 
or liable to injury at the hand of their fellow beings — as if 
they could act independently of and contrary to the will of 
God — that keeps thousands of people in a state of unrest, 
disquietude, and apprehension. It is all wrong. The 
Bible, if properly studied and devoutly believed, will fully 
vindicate its own strong assertion : " Thou wilt keep him 
in perfect peace whose mind " is stayed on thee, because he 
trusteth in thee." 

All this, however, does not do away with the necessity 
and duty of prudence, care, and forecast on our part. 
These are required at our hands. God enjoins this duty 
upon man to the extent of his ability. What lies beyond 
that ability, he takes charge of himself. Nothing is so 
minute as to be below the range of his observation ; noth- 
ing so great as to be above his power of direction, whether 
found among what we call the blind forces of Nature, or in 
the still more perverse domain of human agency. 






DISINTEGRATION. 265 



The great saying of our Lord — " What God hath joined 
together, let not man put asunder," — although applied, 
when first uttered, to the first and dearest of human rela- 
tions, is not necessarily restricted to that. It applies with 
equal force to a thousand other things. Its scope is as wide 
as the harmonies of the universe, and embraces all the 
works of God in their marvelous inter-blendings and inter- 
dependencies. 

Men, when they undertake the work of analysis, are 
obliged to separate things which God has joined together; 
and when separated, they leave the parts asunder, and 
speak of them as independent existences. Hence we have 
a multitude of terms expressive of fragments of what the 
Creator joined together in unity ; and these disintegrated 
fragments, simply because they are put asunder, are differ- 
ent from what he made. In our efforts to reach the ulti- 
mate condition of things, whether physical or psychologi- 
cal, whether material or spiritual, whether religious or secu- 
lar, we put asunder things which God has joined together, 
and which, when thus made diverse, we are unable to re- 
store to unity. So we leave them asunder and speak of 
their disintegrated parts as complete factors in our cosmos. 

Man, under this process, is made a duplex being, com- 
posed of matter and spirit, as if we were able to enter into 
the essence of either. As God made us, we can under- 
stand as much as we need to know of our own nature; but 
when we attempt an analysis, we plunge into an ocean of 
difficulties and absurdities. Even in morals we undertake 
to separate and analyze, and assign such and such of the 
separated parts to the world ; other parts we lift up to a 
higher plane and link them to the Deity. The one set we 

2 3 



266 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

call secular, the other religious. God joined them together; 
wt put them asunder ; and having done so, we treat them 
as if there were little or no relation between them. From 
the one department God is excluded ; in the other we ad- 
mit his claims. 

In that relation which is the foundation of all human 
society from the family to the State, Christ expressly tells 
us that God joined the parties together in unity. Thus, as 
he says again, he set the human race in families. For 
mutual well-being, families aggregated into tribes, and 
tribes into nations, and so the race has continued to exist 
for many centuries. Owing to the wickedness of men, 
many abuses have been blended with all these organizations, 
the family not excepted. Yet they are all of divine origin; 
for we are told that "the powers that be are ordained of 
God." All the relations found among men, from the wedded 
pair to the most complex and powerful political organiza- 
tion, are expressly claimed by the Almighty as his work, 
and necessarily amenable to him as the Supreme Lawgiver. 

Where, then, dare we draw the line between the religious 
and the secular? There is no such line; and when we 
make such distinctions, we are putting asunder what God 
has joined together. Paul does not separate the re- 
ligious from the secular in this exhortation: "Whether, 
therefore, ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to 
the glory of God." Here nothing is excepted. The 
rule covers everything, whether in religion or the affairs of 
every-day life, or voting, or legislating, or the construction 
of national organisms. Here we find no fine-drawn dis- 
tinctions between things secular and things) sacred; but 
God is to be glorified in all we do, whether as Christians 
or citizens ; whether we minister to the wants of the 
animal or the spiritual nature ; and in all our relations, 
to ourselves, the family, the Church, and the State. The 



DISINTEGRATION. 267 

rule is as broad as it can be — " Whatsoever ye do, do all to 
the glory of God." 

Christ is called the King of kings ; but unless he is the 
Ruler of Nations, how can he bear such a title ? It were 
impious to assert that this is an empty, unmeaning phrase. 
Yet the people who deliberately refuse to acknowledge his 
supreme authority over them as a nation, and yet recognize 
him as the Head of the church and as the Saviour of the 
world, really do dethrone him as the King of kings. It is 
written, " All nations shall serve him." Shall we interpret 
this to mean that the people of all nations shall serve him 
as individual "believers and worshipers, while in their col- 
lective capacity as citizens they may rightfully refuse to 
recognize his authority, and deliberately say, " We will not 
have this man to rule over us" ? - To do so is to put asunder 
that which God has joined together. Such reasoning re- 
minds one of the man who was at once a bishop and a gen- 
eral. In his military character he was very profane, and 
when his servant ventured to suggest that such language 
was unbecoming in a bishop, his plea was that he swore as 
a general, and not as a bishop. '"Well," said the servant, 
"when the devil comes for the general, what will become 
of the bishop?" So, when Christ comes to deal with a 
denying nation, what will become of the Christian citizen, 
who, by his influence and vote, took sides with those who 
denied him? As Citizens, we are just as firmly joined to 
our Lord and Master as we are as church members. In the 
one capacity we are as much bound to acknowledge him 
as in the other. It matters not whether we are in the ma- 
jority or the minority, our individual obligation to ac- 
knowledge him as our National Ruler is the same ; and as 
soon as a majority of our people shall so declare themselves, 
the amendment of our organic law which we seek will be 
made. 



268 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

There is nothing to which human nature is more prone 
than to separate things which God has joined together ; and 
to this disintegration we may trace the greater portion of 
the error, the confusion, the strife, and the party divisions, 
which curse the world and retard its progress. We see its 
evil fruits in politics, in philosophy, and even in theology. 
We may rest assured, therefore, that Jesus *had more than 
the marriage relation in his mind when he uttered these 
pregnant words, u What God hath joined together, let not 
man put asunder." 



The infant church, soon after the day of Pentecost, was 
subjected to alternate triumphs and trials, both of which were 
made to advance the cause of truth, and spread it farther 
and farther abroad. Divine power combined with human 
agency, from the very beginning, waged stern warfare with 
the spirits of darkness and human depravity. Early in 
their career did the disciples of Jesus realize the truth of the 
Master's words — " In the world ye shall have tribulation; 
but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." 

The church had grown strong and was well established, 
when Herod, one of the most powerful and magnificent 
tyrants of his day, let loose his hand against the most 
prominent men in it. First he killed James the brother of 
John with the sword, and seeing that the murderous deed 
pleased the Jews, he had Peter arrested and thrown into 
prison. He did not kill him at once, but thought to keep 
him till after Easter, so that he could make his execution 
grace the popular holiday which succeeded that festival. 
It is plain from the extreme care with which he ordered 
him to be kept, that Herod regarded the apostle as no or- 



THE ANGEL AND PETER. 269 

dinary prisoner, for it was made the work of no less than 
sixteen soldiers to guard this one man. To two of them he 
was chained, so that the slightest attempt on his part to get 
away would arouse these guards, and put the whole sixteen 
on the alert. 

Night after night he slept between these two armed 
men, while the other fourteen guarded the doors and the 
outer gate. The last night had come. No existing human 
agency could save him from death on the morrow. All 
that his Christian friends could do was to pray ; and this 
they did without ceasing, though with feeble faith and 
trembling hope, as we may learn from their incredulity 
when the damsel Rhoda went in and told them that their 
prayers were answered, and that Peter himself stood at the 
gate. 

But Peter slept that night so soundly that the angel 
whom God had sent to deliver him had to smite him on the 
side to awake him. Peter did not fear Herod's sword. If 
it were his Lord's will to call him home by that instrumen- 
tality, as he had just done in the case of James, he acqui- 
esced cheerfully and doubtless joyfully. He had already 
accomplished a great work, and probably felt as Paul did 
when his departing time was at hand — "I have fought a 
good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the 
faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall 
give me." He slept sweetly, because the peace which 
passeth all understanding filled his soul. 

But his work was not done. So an angel was sent, not 
to bear his disembodied spirit to his rest on high, but to re- 
lease him bodily and send him back to his work. 

It is interesting to observe the conduct of this celestial 
deliverer on this occasion. How he divided the multitude 
of things that were to be done. How promptly ; almost 

23* 



270 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

sternly, and yet how carefully and deliberately, he pro- 
ceeded. He awoke the apostle with a blow ; then, " Rise 
up quickly/ ' is the first word he speaks. Peter might have 
objected, that he could not do it without lifting up the two 
sleeping soldiers. But he obeyed the command without 
gainsaying, and behold he is free from his chains and 
the men sleep on. Shall he fly just as he is? No. " Gird 
thyself and bind on thy sandals/ ' is the next com- 
mand. It is obeyed. The next is, " Cast thy garments 
about thee and follow me." Peter obeys as quickly as his 
bewildered senses will enable him; for as yet he knows .not 
who is speaking. "Follow?" How can he do that? for 
there are two massive doors and an outer gate guarded by 
fourteen vigilant armed sentinels. But Peter's business was 
to obey, not to question — as it is yours and mine, dear 
reader — and he did obey. Those massive doors opened 
before them, and closed behind them as tight as they had 
been, and that ponderous iron gate swung noiselessly upon 
its hinges and then closed again, and its bars returned to their 
places, all moved by the hand which rolls the planets in 
their orbits and opens the blossoms of Spring. ■ Those 
doors opened and closed, and those two persons passed by 
those vigilant guards, but the guards saw them not. 

Peter seems to have passed through this strange and sud- 
den transition from close confinement to perfect liberty 
without uttering a word, and the angel appears to have 
been entirely reticent except those brief commands in the 
prison. He did not tell Peter who he was, nor whence he 
came. As soon as he had him safely in the street he left 
him to find his way to his friends and brethren as he could, 
and to find out by the exercise of his own reason that God 
had sent an angel to deliver him. " Now I know of a 
surety (said he in soliloquy,) that the Lord hath sent his 
angel, and hath delivered me out of the hands of Herod, 



THE ANGEL AND PETER. 271 

and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews." 
This last clause shows us how the enemies of Jesus of Naz- 
areth were looking forward to the execution of this dis- 
tinguished man as to a great, perhaps decisive, triumph. 

In this transaction we see how easily God defeats the 
machinations of the wicked when he chooses to do so, and 
how he pours contempt upon princes. Herod felt it keenly, 
as we may know by his cruel rage in ordering the keepers 
to be put to death, and then immediately departing from 
Jerusalem. 

Another thing which we may observe in it is, that Peter 
was required to do all that was in his power to do. What 
was beyond his power was done for him. So it is in all 
the work pertaining to our deliverance from the powers of 
the great adversary. Peter obeyed every command, and 
the result was his deliverance from prison and from death. 
But what he did, although essential, did not break those 
chains, nor open those doors, nor bind for the moment the 
senses of the keepers. 

One thing more we may observe, and that is* the care of 
the angel for little things, the girdle, the sandals, the gar- 
ment. Calmly and deliberately, yet with all practicable 
diligence, the man was required to fix himself for traveling 
with comfort, and for a renewal of his apostolic work. " He 
that believeth," says the psalmist, " shall not make haste." 
God cares for our smallest wants, and they that put their 
trust in him shall not want any good thing. 

How the people at the house of Mary, who were assem- 
bled to pray for Peter, were astonished that their prayers 
were answered ! When Rhoda ran in and declared that 
Peter was at the gate, they exclaimed, " Thou art mad !" 
How hard it is to believe the promise, "Ask, and ye shall 
receive l M 



272 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

In the days of Christ and his apostles, Judea was a sub- 
jugated province of the Roman Empire, and the power of 
the subordinate rulers under the Caesars was maintained by 
numerous garrisons of soldiers. These soldiers constituted 
the police of the country, and were the agents in executing 
sentence upon persons condemned to death or to corporal 
punishment. A band of soldiers crucified the Saviour ; and 
when Peter was confined in prison he slept between two 
soldiers. Over this scattered police-soldiery there were many 
officers, called centurions. They were competent to com- 
mand one hundred men, as the name indicates, although it 
is not probable that the number under their command was 
often full. 

Four centurions are distinctly mentioned in the New Tes- 
tament, and all favorably. The one who applied to our 
Lord to heal his servant, and who exhibited such admirable 
humility and faith. " Lord," said he, "I am not worthy 
that thou shpuldst come under my roof; but speak the word, 
and my servant shall live." The second in order is the 
one who attended upon the crucifixion of the Saviour, and 
who, seeing the natural prodigies which attended his death, 
smote upon his breast, exclaiming, " Surely this was the Son 
of God!" The third is Cornelius, of whom we propose to 
speak ; and the fourth is the one who treated Paul so court- 
eously on his voyage to Rome. That such excellence of 
character should be found among military men, heathens, is 
well calculated to disarm prejudice and check harsh, undis- 
criminating judgment upon entire classes. And such suscep- 
tibility to divine truth and sacred impressions as we find 
manifested by these men is well calculated to inspire hope 
in reference to the entire Gentile world, the great majority 
of whom are yet ignorant of the Saviour. 



CORNELIUS. 273 

What was Cornelius? That he was a Roman military 
officer we have already seen. But what was his condition 
as a religious man ? Was he'a heathen ? No ; for his res- 
idence in Palestine had made him in some measure ac- 
quainted with the true God, and him he feared and wor- 
shiped sincerely and fervently. He is called a devout 
man, — one who feared God and prayed to him always. Was 
he a proselyte to Judaism? No; for, had he been so, 
Peter would not have hesitated to enter his house and hold 
communion with him in worship. What, then, was he ? In 
his outward relations he was a heathen ; but in his heart he 
was, according to the light he had, a true worshiper of the 
God of Israel ; for we are told that his prayers and alms 
had come up as a memorial before God. His condition, 
when we first hear of him, is an anomalous one ; but he 
is nevertheless one of the most highly favored of men, — 
chosen in the adorable sovereignty of God to be the first- 
born of many brethren, the forerunner of a multitude of 
redeemed ones that no man can number, redeemed from 
the Gentile world. In his person the middle wall of parti- 
tion was broken down between Jews and Gentiles. In his 
house they both became one in Christ Jesus. In his house 
that door was opened which can never again be shut until 
the consummation of all things, — that door through which 
we have entered into the kingdom of heaven, if indeed we 
are partakers of it at all. Viewed in this light, the 10th 
chapter of the Acts of the Apostles is a narrative of ex- 
ceeding interest. What the call of Abraham was to the 
Hebrews the call and conversion of Cornelius is to us Gen- 
tiles. He is our representative, our forerunner, our exemplar. 

Cornelius was " a devout man, and one that feared God 
with all his house ; which gave much alms to the people, 
and prayed to God always.' ' " Why," exclaims the super- 
ficial reader, ' ' this man was every whit a Christian, especially 



2 74 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

when it is added that his prayers and alms had come up with 
acceptance in the sight of God." But no ; he was not a 
Christian yet. He was a devout man, a praying man, a 
benevolent man ; and doubtless these virtues which shone so 
resplendent in his character were the genuine fruits of the 
Holy Spirit, who was leading him in the right path, but had 
not yet led him to Christ; and, in order to complete the 
good work which he had begun, it was necessary that he 
should be further instructed. 

To this end an angel was sent to him ; and what did the 
angel say? Did he tell Cornelius of the Saviour? Not at 
all. He made not the most remote allusion to him. Although 
angels are ministering spirits to the heirs of salvation, and 
have often been the agents in imparting to men important 
revelations, they are not permitted to preach the gospel. 
This commission, this distinguished honor, is given to 
men; this treasure is contained in earthen vessels, that 
the excellency may be of God, — to men, who have them- 
selves been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, 
— to men who by faith are made partakers of Christ, and 
are more intimately allied to him than angels can be, — to 
men who, through the wondrous agency of redeeming grace, 
are made one with Christ, participants in his righteousness 
and his glory, — it is given to make known to their fallen 
brethren the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to open to 
them the kingdom of heaven. 

The angel bore to Cornelius a message of divine com- 
mendation, and then added, "Send men to Joppa, and call 
for one Simon, whose surname is Peter : ... he shall tell 
thee what thou oughtest to do." Thus we see that the piety 
of Cornelius was good as far as it went, but that it was de- 
ficient. Such a religion, had it stopped here, could not 
have saved him. This Cornelius knew ; and doubtless his 
unceasing prayer was for more light ; and his prayer was 
abundantly answered. 



CORNELIUS. 275 

"Send men to Joppa," said the angel. The command 
was one that Cornelius could easily obey, for he was a man 
in authority, having soldiers under him. He could say to 
one, Go, and he went, and to another, Do this, and it was 
done. All God's commands are reasonable and just. " Go 
wash in the pool of Siloam," said Jesus to the blind man. 
This he could do without difficulty, although it might have 
been out of his power to send men to Joppa. "Wash seven 
times in Jordan/' is the sovereign command of Elisha to 
Naaman the Syrian, as the condition of his being recovered 
of his leprosy. Naaman's pride for a time revolted at so 
simple a prescription; but Cornelius was not for a moment 
disobedient to the heavenly vision. " Send men to Joppa, 
and call for one Simon, whose surname is Peter." "One 
Simon." The expression plainly denotes that Cornelius, 
until that moment, was altogether ignorant of the existence 
of the man who is thus appointed to be his teacher 5 nor 
does the angel tell him any thing about him, save that he 
lodged at the house of another Simon, a tanner, whose 
house was by the sea side. He is not informed that Simon 
is a follower of Jesus of Nazareth, who had recently been 
crucified at Jerusalem. In short, he was left in profound 
ignorance as to the nature of the instructions he was to re- 
ceive. Yet he staggered not at the command, nor at the 
promise that he should tell him what he ought to do. His 
obedience, therefore, was very similar to that of Abraham 
when he complied with the divine command to leave his 
kindred and his .native country and sojourn in a land which 
God would show him, — " not knowing whither he went." 

While the men were on their journey, God was preparing 
Peter for the discharge of a new and strange duty. He 
was a Jew, and was strongly tinctured with Jewish preju- 
dices. By them the nations of the Gentile world were re- 
garded as outcasts, as unclean and accursed. During the 



276 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ages of the Mosaic economy — nay from the call of Abraham 
— they had been a separate and peculiar people ; but that 
wise and righteous interdiction against their mingling with 
their idolatrous neighbors had degenerated into an unholy 
and inveterate prejudice, — a prejudice so deep-rooted that 
it required a wondrous allegorical vision to remove it from 
the mind of even an apostle. But the same Spirit which 
was carrying on a good work in the heart of Cornelius, and 
preparing him to embrace the Saviour, thus taught Peter 
that he erred when he supposed that salvation was confined 
to the people of his nation. All things being thus arranged, 
the apostle accompanied the messengers of Cornelius prompt- 
ly and without gainsaying. 

When Peter arrived at the house of Cornelius, the latter 
exhibited a trace of heathenism in falling at the feet of the 
apostle and worshiping him as a demigod. No doubt Cor- 
nelius supposed that a being of whom an angel is sent from 
heaven to apprize him must necessarily be divine. Peter 
having corrected this mistake, and checked this incipient 
idolatry, they all went in together and made up what was 
certainly one of the most interesting worshiping assemblies 
ever seen in this world. Cornelius, having learned to re- 
gard his guest and teacher as a fellow man, then rehearsed, 
in calm and dignified language, the particulars of the vision 
with which he had been favored. While Cornelius spoke, 
a new and grand idea burst upon the mind of Peter ; and 
at the close of the remarks of his Gentile friend he exclaimed, 
in accents of astonishment and adoration, " Of a truth I per- 
ceive that God is no respecter of persons ; but in every nation 
he that feareth him and worketh righteousness is accepted of 
him." Thus that door which had for ages debarred the Gen- 
tiles, as such, from the Church of God on earth, and upon 
whose ponderous bolts and bars the rust of almost two thou- 
sand years had accumulated, is thrown open, and Jews and 



CORNELIUS. 277 

Gentiles, circumcised and uncircumcised, mingle in delight- 
ful harmony at the feet of their common Saviour and Lord, 
and are baptized with the same water and the same Spirit. 
It was a great and glorious event; and all its concomitants 
were in perfect keeping, and are as instructive as they are 
delightful. 

"I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven'' 
said Christ to Peter. Do we not, in the great events which 
occurred on the day of Pentecost and in the house of Cor- 
nelius, see him discharging the grand and mysterious com- 
mission he then received? On the first occasion his pro- 
clamation was, "Ye men of Israel, hear these words ;" and 
then he set before them an open door, through which thou- 
sands of them immediately pressed for safety and salvation. 
And in the house of Cornelius we behold him wielding 
another key, at the use of which he himself seems to be 
startled. Thus was it given to that illustrious man to open 
the kingdom of heaven to both Jews and Gentiles. 

The Holy Ghost, we are informed, accompanied the words 
of the apostle; and Cornelius and his company believed the 
gospel, embraced the Saviour, were made partakers of the 
miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost, united with their Jewish 
brethren in the high praises of their common God and Saviour, 
and were baptized, and thus fully inducted into the Christian 
Church. 

In this transaction two great truths are held up for our 
contemplation and encouragement. The first is, that the 
honest, earnest seeker for truth is sure to find it. Such was 
Cornelius. That is a precious promise which declares that 
" to the upright light shall arise in the darkness." Cornelius 
was a devout man even while immersed in almost heathenish 
darkness. His devotion was honest and sincere, and his 
works were good. When he is first introduced to us he is 
in a transition state. God has begun a good work in his 

24 



278 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

heart ; but it is not yet perfect. He is a go<^d man ; but 
not a Christian. He is near the kingdom of God ; but not 
yet in it. It were impious to suppose that Cornelius, or 
any other man in like condition, could be left without further 
light. In some way or other, God, whose work is always 
perfect, will see to it that the sincere seeker of truth and 
salvation shall find them ; and that man makes a perilous 
assertion who says that he has sought for the truth and failed 
to find it. 

The second great truth taught here is, that prayers, even 
such as come up with acceptance before God, and alms, 
even though well pleasing in the sight of Heaven, are not 
sufficient of themselves to secure salvation. Good a man as 
Cornelius was, it was necessary that Christ should be revealed 
to him, and that he should believe in him and trust in him 
for salvation. What now becomes of the moralist, who thinks 
to secure the divine favor and mercy upon the strength of his 
blameless life and his active benevolence ? He has heard 
of Christ ; but he imagines he does not need him. Did 
Cornelius need the Saviour, — this man of devotion, of prayer, 
and of charity to the poor ? Certainly he did ; else why send 
men to Joppa for one Simon, who should tell him what to 
do? Was he not doing well? Did not an angel from 
Heaven assure him that his prayers and alms had come up as 
a memorial before God ? Yet Peter must come and tell him 
what to do ! Oh ! if Cornelius' works could not save him, 
whose can ? But Cornelius, with all his devotion, with all 
his alms, was a sinner, and needed to be washed in the blood 
of Christ, — needed to be united to him by a living faith. 
He, and the thief on the cross, and the jailer of Philippi, 
must all be saved in the same way ; and this day their united 
voices blend in the song, "To Him that loved us, and washed 
us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings 
and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and 
dominion for ever and ever. Amen." 



SAUL OF TARSUS — PAUL THE APOSTLE. 279 

History furnishes no example of so mighty a moral rev- 
olution as that which passed over this extraordinary and 
illustrious man in his conversion. To understand it, we 
must first analyze the character of Saul of Tarsus, the most 
zealous, powerful and persistent enemy of Christ that existed 
in his day. 

It will not do to class Saul with ordinary wicked men ; 
for no man was more zealous in the service of the God of 
Israel than he. Being an honest and earnest man, he had 
an intense hatred of all impostors \ and being rash and im- 
pulsive in judgment, and strong in his prejudices, he had 
settled it in his mind firmly that Jesus of Nazareth was an 
impostor, and that the religion which he had established in 
the world was a pernicious and destructive heresy. He had 
watched the rapid progress of the new faith with ever in- 
creasing jealousy and hatred, as a thing which threatened 
the subversion of the sacred institutions established by God 
through Moses and the prophets. His conduct leaves us to 
believe that he never for a moment wavered in his convic- 
tions. He seems to have been fully persuaded that it was 
his duty and his life-work to war against this tremendous 
heresy, in which he saw a force, a vitality and an aggressive 
power for which his philosophy could not account. That it 
was based in falsehood he seems not for a* moment to have 
doubted. He was too impetuous to reason calmly, as his 
gifted preceptor Gamaliel did, when he told the Jewish coun- 
cil to " refrain from these men and let them alone ; for if this 
counsel or this work be of men it will come to nought ; but 
if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it ; lest, haply, ye be 
found even to fight against God." Saul, nobler, more honest, 
but madder than Gamaliel, rushed to full persuasion that the 



280 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

crucified Nazarene was a false prophet and teacher, and that 
the best service he could render to his God and his nation 
would be to crush out his deluded followers by violence and 
a war of extermination; hence we read that he breathed out 
threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord. 
He himself tells us, long after he became a Christian, that in 
so doing he verily thought he was serving God. 

But such fiery zeal, however honest, hardens the heart 
and is desperately wicked. Paul himself so regarded it after 
he became filled with the mild and gentle spirit of Christ. 
" Lord," he says in words of deep penitence, years after he 
had become a great and successful apostle, "Lord, they know 
that I imprisoned and beat in every synagogue them that 
believed on thee ; and when the blood of thy martyr Stephen 
was shed, I also was standing by and consenting unto his 
death, and kept the raiment of them that slew him." 

Saul thought he was doing right ; but his thinking so did 
not make it so. He believed that he was serving God; but 
his own subsequent confession shows us how dreadfully he 
was mistaken. Such zeal, however honest, is not in accord- 
ance with the spirit of Christ, and can only arise in the soul 
through erroneous notions of God. The people of a Samar- 
itan village, on one occasion, refused to allow Jesus and his 
disciples to enter their town, because he appeared to be going 
towards Jerusalem. John — the gentle, loving John,— and his 
brother James, asked leave to call down fire from heaven to 
consume them as Elijah did ; but Jesus rebuked them, say- 
ing, " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of." These 
good men on this occasion gave place to the devil, but did 
not know it ; and just so Saul of Tarsus served the devil out 
of zeal for God's glory, as he understood it. Zeal without 
knowledge and without the guidance of the Holy Spirit is a 
consuming fire, a desolating force. 

Impelled by this force Saul was hastening to Damascus, 



SAUL OF TARSUS — PAUL THE APOSTLE. 28 1 

armed with legal authority and burning with hatred towards 
the followers of the Galilean impostor, as he supposed, and 
resolved to crush out them and their heresy together. He is 
near the city. The sun's hot rays beam upon him; but 
hotter still is the hatred and furious zeal which burn in his 
breast. It is the supreme moment of his life. As far as 
a man could go in mad, mistaken, hell-inspired zeal, he has 
gone. Now let us take his own eloquent narrative before 
Agrippa of what occurred : 

"At midday, O king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, 
above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me and 
them which journeyed with me. And when we were all fallen 
to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me and saying in 
the Hebrew tongue, < Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? 
It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks. 1 And I said, 
6 Who art thou, Lord?' And he said, ' I am Jesus whom thou 
persecutest. But rise and stand upon thy feet ; for I have 
appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister 
and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and 
of those things in the which I will appear unto thee, deliver- 
ing thee from the people and from the Gentiles, unto whom 
now I send thee, to open their eyes, and to turn them from 
darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, 
that they may receive forgiveness of sins and inheritance 
among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me. M> 

Never in this world was there such a meeting of forces as 
this. The power of hatred, under the guise of zeal for God, 
was impelling this man onward in his cruel crusade; but 
the force of love brought the Son of God — doubtless in his 
full and complete nature as God and man — to arrest him in 
his mistaken and mad career ; to turn his feet into the way 
of holiness and peace; to change him from a foe to a friend; 
to save and bless him, and make of him the most shining light 
the world ever saw in a mere man. Between these two mighty 

24* 



282 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

forces there was no conflict. Great as was the force of 
hatred as it raged in the bosom of Saul, the power of the 
love of Christ was infinitely greater. There was no con- 
flict. The lesser force yielded to the greater at once. When 
Jesus spoke to the raging winds and waters on the Galilean 
lake, there was no conflict between the opposing forces. 
When he called Lazarus from the tomb, there was no con- 
flict between the powers of life and death ; so here, on the 
road to Damascus, prejudice, hostility and opposition at once 
gave way to light, and truth, and love. Not for a moment 
was this great and energetic and self-willed man disobedient 
to the heavenly vision. "Lord, what wilt thou have me 
to do?' 7 was a cry which indicated a full surrender. O sin- 
ner ! follow the example of this greatest of converts when 
the voice of Jesus reaches your ears ! 

So Jesus came down from heaven to capture the noblest 
yet most formidable of his enemies ; for with all his errors 
Saul was an earnest, honest, zealous and highly gifted 
man, one who, according to the light he had, worshiped 
and served God zealously ; although that light was but the 
glare of the bottomless pit, and that zeal such as Satan in- 
spired. The evil one never had a nobler captive in his 
clutches. But when the great Deliverer came, see how he 
changed him; see how he expelled anger, malice, and all 
uncharitableness from his heart, and filled it with his own 
Spirit, his own love, his own zeal for the glory of God and 
for the salvation of the lost. With all his intellectual great- 
ness, and the dignity of the office with which his Master 
invested him, never was there a spirit more meek and gentle 
and loving than .that of Paul the apostle. See his letters 
to Philemon, to Timothy, and indeed all his epistles, but 
especially that to the Philippians, from which let us take 
one single out-gushing sentence : "Therefore, my brethren, 
dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand 



SAUL OF TARSUS — PAUL THE APOSTLE. 283 

fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved !" These are the words 
of the man who once breathed out threatenings and slaughter 
against the disciples of the Lord. Such is the transforming 
power of the grace of God and of the love of Christ. 

Saul of Tarsus and Paul the apostle seem like two differ- 
ent historical personages, as far asunder in character as 
men could well be. Yet we know that they are the same ; 
and we trace in the apostle the same earnestness, the same 
impetuous, untiring zeal for Israel's God, the same honesty 
of purpose, and the same patriotic devotion to his nation 
that we find in Saul of Tarsus. Before his conversion he 
was under Satan's guidance ; but afterwards Christ led, in- 
spired and strengthened him. With all his grand natural 
forces, still he always ascribes his ability and success to grace. 
•Of himself he was nothing; but, he says, "I can do all things 
through Christ which strengthened! me." So, before his con- 
version, he seems to have been urged on and strengthened 
by a supernal though evil power. The transition in his case 
from darkness to light, from hatred to love, from Satan to 
God, was so great and obvious, so strongly marked, that it 
affords an example such as is no where else found of the 
transforming power of the grace of God. Doubtless the 
greatness of this change enabled Paul himself to understand 
this converting power more clearly than he otherwise could 
have conceived it, and to set it forth as no other preacher 
and writer has ever done. 



284 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



iaul ana tttt piktr. 

Paul and Silas, in their missionary travels, came to Phil- 
ippi, where they preached the gospel as in other places. A 
miracle was wrought by Paul upon a damsel, in delivering 
her from the power of a foul spirit, here called a spirit of 
divination, into the nature of which possession it is not our 
purpose at this time to inquire. Suffice it to say that by so 
doing he destroyed the source of gain which some people 
had found in this young woman's calamity. Nothing so ex- 
asperates wicked men as interference with their profits, as is 
abundantly manifested in our day by the rage which is ex- 
cited against those who endeavor to put an end to dealings 
in another kind of spirits, equally foul, equally lucrative, but 
far more destructive ; for that spirit, if let alone, would 
have destroyed one soul. This destroys thousands. 

Paul and Silas were seized, and before a tribunal more 
of the character of a mob than of a court of justice, were 
condemned and sentenced to be severely beaten. This 
done, they were thrust into prison, and the jailer charged 
to keep them safely. He, in obedience to the injunction of 
his masters, placed them in the inner prison and made their 
feet fast in the stocks. It were difficult to imagine a situa- 
tion more forlorn and deplorable. To the eye of sense 
there could be no more wretched individuals in all that 
city than Paul and Silas; but in that case the eye of sense 
would have brought back a very erroneous report. They 
held communion with God in prayer, and at midnight were j 
so filled with his fullness that they burst out in songs of 
praise. Jesus had said to Paul, "My grace is sufficient for 
thee;" and here we see how faithful he is to his promise. 

This was a strange sound in such a place and at such an 
hour. The usual language in such a place is that of com- 



PAUL AND THE JAILER. 285 

plaint, lamentation, curses and blasphemy, — the utterance 
of remorse, despair, or rage. But here is the voice of joy, 
of gratitude, and of thanksgiving. "And the prisoners 
heard them." God saw the hearts that were melted and the 
tears which flowed that night in that prison at that song of 
praise. To some of them, it may be, it was the still small 
voice of love and mercy, guided and made effectual by 
the Holy Spirit. The pen of inspiration is silent as to the 
effect of the wonders of that night upon the hearts of those 
prisoners ; but we may build our hopes upon the significant 
clause, "The prisoners heard them." 

"And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the 
foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all 
the doors were opened, and every one's bands were loosed." 
That this earthquake was purely miraculous we may infer 
from its peculiar effects in opening the doors and liber- 
ating the prisoners from their fetters. And although the 
doors were opened and every one's bands loosed, by some 
strange attraction they all remained : not one attempted to 
escape. That strangely sweet anthem of praise still sounded 
in their ears and thrilled their hearts, and, it may be, caused 
them to cluster around the wonderful men who had come to 
be their companions. 

At this interesting point the keeper of the prison is again 
introduced. We are told that, "awaking out of his sleep 
and seeing the prison doors open, he drew out his sword, 
and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners 
had been fled." That this was a wicked man we may con- 
fidently infer from the barbarous manner in which he car- 
ried out the orders of his superiors respecting Paul and 
Silas; for to put the feet of men abused as they were into 
the stocks was an act of abominable cruelty. But the tor- 
tures of his prisoners did not disturb his slumbers ; for we 
are told that he slept until he found himself surrounded by 



286 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the terrors of the earthquake. But that produced no saving 
effect, no penitence; for we find that his chief concern was 
about his prisoners. Seeing the doors all thrown open, he 
supposed that they had escaped, of course. Driven to des- 
peration at this thought, he was about to destroy himself. 
Among the Romans, suicide, in some cases, was regarded as 
commendable ; and this man was about to act upon that 
heathenish sentiment, probably to escape the ignominious 
death that awaited him had the case been as he imagined. 
It is impossible to suppose that the jailer did not recognize 
in this tremendous event a supernatural power; but still he 
was not awed by it. It did not arouse his conscience. He 
thought only of his earthly masters and of his own earthly 
honor. Never was that man's heart harder, never was he in 
higher rebellion against his Maker, than at that awful mo- 
ment. The earthquake had expended its terrors upon him 
without any saving effect; for " the Lord was not in the 
earthquake." 

But emotions which he had never felt before poured like 
a flood through his heart at the voice of Paul, who, in a 
tone of kindness, cried out, a Do thyself no harm ; for we 
are all here." His prisoners are safe; his own life is safe ; 
but his heart is broken. He trembles now, and, humbled, 
stricken, and convicted, he falls down before his two Chris- 
tian prisoners. What crushed this bold, bad man, who a 
moment before was about to rush unbidden into the pres- 
ence of his Maker? It was Love. Paul yearned for his 
salvation, and the Spirit of God carried the words of His 
servant with power to his heart. At the still small voice of 
God Elijah hid his face in his mantle, after witnessing un- 
moved the wonders of his power ; so this jailer, only har- 
dened by the exhibition of divine power, was utterly sub- 
dued by the simple language of love and mercy, and cried, 
in accents oi penitence and trembling hope, "Sirs, what 



PAUL AND THE JAILER. 287 

must I do to be saved?" The goodness of God — not his 
severity — led this man to repentance. 

Some have very unwisely interpreted the anxious inquiry 
of the jailer as referring to his alarm about his prisoners. 
But Paul had already assured him that they were all safe, 
and that he had therefore nothing to apprehend on that ac- 
count. His words removed the fear of man, but they im- 
planted the fear of God; and now he is only anxious to be 
delivered from sin and its consequences. Paul so under- 
stood him, and directed him to the Lord Jesus Christ as the 
only way of salvation. He believed, was baptized, rejoiced, 
and at once became kind and compassionate to the men he 
had used so cruelly. 

I have confined myself to a single point in this instructive 
narrative, and that is, the illustration which it affords of the 
truth — too much forgotten — that the goodness of God lead- 
eth to repentance ; and that it is only the apprehension of 
the mercy of God in Christ that can ever awaken in the 
breast of a sinner true sorrow for sin. Terrors, judgments, 
and chastisements are useful, and are used as auxiliaries ; 
and the apostle has said that " the law is a school-master to 
bring us to Christ. ,, But all sacred history and all experi- 
ence testify that terrors, of themselves, only harden the 
sinner and render him more desperately wicked. It was so 
with Pharaoh ; it was so with the jailer. A look of kindness 
and love broke Peter's heart ; and a few kind words from a 
deeply injured prisoner caused the cruel jailer of Philippi to 
cry for mercy, and were made instrumental in bringing him 
to Christ, and in filling his heart with pity and loving 
kindness. 



288 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

WUt <$*rm of (&UxmX fife. 

in the cluster of blessings with which the Sermon on the 
Mount opens, the Divine Teacher observes the law of order 
and progress. It is a graphic delineation of the kingdom 
of heaven — not of heaven above, but of that new life which, 
beginning in regeneration, goes on from strength unto 
strength until the character is perfected. Grace, action, 
suffering, are the three conditions through which the citizen 
of that kingdom is carried in these beatitudes. 

The first — "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is 
the kingdom of heaven" — is the entering into that king- 
dom. "It is easier (says Jesus,) for a camel to go through 
the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the 
kingdom" — one who trusts in his riches, as the Saviour ex- 
plained it. 

Poverty — the absence of wealth — and poverty of spirit — 
the absence of imaginary goodness and merit, a humble 
sense of unworthiness — are very different things ; and it is of 
the latter that Jesus speaks. I know of no words which more 
clearly express this foundation grace, this initial step in the 
path of life, than theae simple lines : 

u Just as I am, without one plea, 
But that thy blood was shed for me, 
And that thou bidst me come to thee, 
O Lamb of God, I come !" 

Whoever can utter these words in their true import from 
an honest, sincere and earnest heart, has the promised bless- 
ing ; the kingdom of heaven is his ; for he is in. He may 
and will mourn ; but he will be comforted. He will be 
meek \ for a sense of his own unworthiness will make him 
so. He will hunger and thirst after righteousness, because 
of his deep-felt poverty in himself, yet be filled with the 



THE GERM OF ETERNAL LIFE. 289 

perfect righteousness of Christ by faith. He will be mer- 
ciful ; for he will have the spirit of Christ. And finally he 
will become pure in heart, and thus be prepared to see God. 

This ascending scale of graces and their resultant bless- 
ings, is as natural as that other figure of the chain of pro- 
gress — " First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in 
the ear." One step leads to the next, and then the next, 
until perfect holiness and the highest heaven are reached. 
The benedictions of Christ on the mount are like Jacob's 
ladder, one end of which rested on the earth by the side of 
a poor, benighted, prostrate wanderer, the other upon the 
throne of God. The two extremes of strength and weak- 
ness, of fullness and destitution, of purity and vileness, are 
put in connection ; and while faith and hope look upward 
from the lower end, blessings come down, and strength is 
given to the weakest saint to climb into life and light and 
joy for ever and ever. 

"Blessed are the poor in spirit ?" How are we to under- 
stand these words ? Do they mean a low and abject spirit ? 
No. Or a gloomy, moping, desponding spirit ? Not at all. 
Or a timid, trembling, doubting spirit ? Far from it. Or 
a spirit that is afraid to lay hold of a Father's promises or a 
Saviour's cleansing blood? The very opposite. Does pov- 
erty of spirit cast hope and joy out of the heart ? So far 
from it that peace in believing and joy in the Holy Ghost 
can only come in through that medium. Poverty of spirit 
is not a negative grace. It is simply a renunciation of all 
thought of personal merit and of self-righteousness. It is 
clearing out of the heart of all objects of hope and trust, so 
that Christ may reign without a rival. 

" Blessed are the poor in spirit," says Jesus, or happy are 
the poor in spirit, which is the same thing. Why? Because 
now there is no obstacle to their complete salvation— nothing 
to prevent their coming to him, nothing to bar him out. So 

2 5 



290 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

long as people plead that they have tried to live right, that 
they have been honest and kind, free from gross vice, and 
better, as they think, than many Christians, they are not 
poor in spirit and cannot enter Christ's kingdom. Once, 
when a future state was the subject of conversation, a lady 
who had many fine traits of character, remarked, " I hope 
to go to a good place when I die, for I never did anybody 
any harm." Upon that wretched foundation a dull, stupid 
and joyless hope rested ; but she was not poor in spirit. 
She did not feel the need of the cleansing blood of a Saviour, 
and supposed that her imagined innocence would be a pass- 
port to "a good place." That lady was but one among 
thousands who are resting in the same delusive hope. To 
such Jesus speaks in these faithful words: "Thou sayest, 'I 
am rich and increased with goods and have need of nothing ;' 
and knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable, and 
poor, and blind, and naked." If they only knew them- 
selves they would be poor in spirit, and be ready to enter 
the kingdom of heaven, first in the life that now is, and 
then in that which is to come. 



» mtfy Jtor* JmuMtaiicw. 

In closing that magnificent summary of doctrines, moral 
precepts, blessings, promises, warnings and encouragements 
recorded most fully by Matthew in the 5th, 6th and 7th 
chapters of his Gospel, commonly called, " the Sermon on 
the Mount," which for freshness, terseness, vigor, and com- 
prehensiveness, stands without a rival, our Lord introduces 
this simple and striking illustration : 

" Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine and doeth 
them, I will liken him unto a wise man who built his house 



THE ONLY SURE FOUNDATION. 29I 

upon a rock; and the rain descended, and the floods came, 
and the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell 
not, for it was founded upon a rock. And every one that 
heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them not, shall be 
likened to a foolish man who built his house upon the sand; 
and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the 
winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell, and 
great was the fall of it." 

The figures here used are so simple, so much the objects 
of universal observation, that the learned and the un- 
learned are equal in their ability to understand them. In 
this adaptation to all grades of intelligence we find one of 
the strongest proofs of the divine authorship of the Holy 
Scriptures. Put a volume from the pen of one of our deep 
philosophic thinkers into the hands of a man or woman of 
ordinary grade of intellect, and he or she can make nothing 
of it. But let them have the recorded words of Jesus, 
whose teachings have height and depth immeasurably trans- 
cending those of the profoundest philosophers, and they 
can understand them as easily as though a little child had 
spoken. 

But what is this rock of which he speaks? Is it himself? 
It is; and in the most comprehensive sense. It is himself 
as " the truth" — as the Alpha and Omega of all abso- 
lute and imperishable Truth, at once its source and its end 
— Truth unmixed with error, or theory, or opinion — Truth 
flowing from its source, not gathered from Nature as we 
find it around us in the planet we inhabit, or among the 
stars with which we are surrounded — Truth, not reflected as 
light is reflected from illuminated objects, but as it flows 
directly from the sun. Hence Christ is called by the 
prophet the Sun of Righteousness, and he himself says in 
express terms, u Iam the Light of the world." 

Men gather much valuable truth from their investigations 



292 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

of Nature; and this is light as far as it goes. But not a ray 
of this light can penetrate beyond the grave, or reveal to us 
what relations we hold to the Author of our being. Inves- 
tigate and theorize as we may, we cannot reach him. Like 
the prodigal in a far country, we must turn our faces 
towards him as our only hope, and then, although yet a 
great way off, he will enable us by faith to see him, for he 
will meet us, manifest himself to us, and let us know how 
good he is. Then, and not till then, may we safely begin 
to build our everlasting house, for we have found the rock. 
Then and there we begin to dwell in the secret place of the 
Most High, and abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 
No storms can shake a house resting on that foundation. 
Resting there, we can sing Habakkuk's song : "Although 
the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the 
vine ; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall 
yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and 
there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in 
the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." 

All else is sand. There is but one Rock; and "other 
foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is 
Jesus Christ.' V Sand is disintegrated rock, as the highest 
and best of human science, when it attempts to reach be- 
yond the range of tangibility or of ocular observation, is 
but disintegrated truth. Nothing is more shifting and un- 
stable. If, then, we dare not rest upon the highest unaided 
reason, how much less upon lower and meaner things ! 

We must hear Christ's words and do them. This is faith 
and obedience. With our foundation upon this rock we can- 
not fall; off of it we cannot stand. Sand may do very well 
until the rains, the floods and the winds come, as come 
they will ; but when death comes, as the deluge came to 
the old world, we must have something more secure. We 
must build upon the only Rock; "for," says Peter, in his 



t;he mountains were covered. 293 

address to the Jewish rulers, "there is none other name 
under heaven given among men whereby we must be 
saved." Christ calls him a foolish man who builds upon 
anything else. 



The account which Moses gives of the flood is brief, but 
very graphic — the rain, the breaking up of the fountains of 
the great deep, and the awfully rapid and resistless swellings 
of the waters which followed. Read Genesis vii. 17-20. 

Whether the flood was brought about miraculously, or by 
an extraordinary and divinely appointed combination of 
natural forces, is a question I do not propose at present to 
discuss ; for I think there is no profit in such discussions. 
I am not one of those who hold that where Nature comes in, 
God is excluded. To my mind his hand is as apparent in 
the semi-diurnal tide as in the dividing of the Red Sea ; in 
the opening of a flower, as in the raising of Lazarus. The 
only difference is, that the first is what we call the regular 
course or operation of Nature ; the others were miraculous. 
Both, however, were and are alike the work of God. 

Few events in the world's history afford a richer field for 
the play of the imagination than the one we have under 
consideration ; the tremendous outpouring of rain ; the im- 
petuous torrents of water flowing and leaping from the 
higher to the lower grounds ; the rapid and long-continued 
swelling of the rivers ; and, most awful of all, the over-flow- 
ing of the ocean, — for I think that is what is meant by the 
breaking up of the fountains of the great deep. We may 
stretch the imagination to the utmost to depict the feelings 
of the unhappy wretches who refused to take the warnings 
of Noah, as they gradually changed from astonishment to 

25* ' 



294 



GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



alarm, from alarm to terror, from terror to despair. Those 
whose habitations were on the lower grounds — the valleys 
— would be first in danger, and the first to be driven out to 
wander in quest of higher and safer ground. Then we may 
imagine others whose more elevated dwellings were on the 
hills. These, for a while, would hope that their lives at 
least were safe, and would look out with various feelings 
and mingled emotions upon the devastation and death below 
them. Others, still higher, would for a while feel quite 
sure that the flood could never reach their habitation. 
Sages, whose lives w T ere spent in the clear atmosphere of 
mountain-tops, would look down upon an almost submerged 
world, and wonder and speculate upon the strange phe- 
nomenon of what would seem to them an endless torrent of 
rain. 

But there, away down on a low plain, stood the ark which 
they had laughed at for a century. At first the swelling 
waters would surge and roar around it, and threaten to 
break it up even before it got afloat. Noah and his family 
were in, and the door was shut. Here and there, on the 
plain, perched on little sand-hills which were rapidly wash- 
ing away, would be multitudes of terrified people who 
would now gladly be in the ark with Noah, but it is too 
late. Those on the hills would look down upon it as the 
waters raged around it, and please themselves with the 
notion that their position was still safer than that of Noah. 
His ark might, and probably would, be dashed to pieces in 
the boiling flood ; but their hills were solid rock, and could 
not be moved. As for their being overflowed, that, for 
days together, would seem to be out of the question. 
Thousands of the dwellers below, who had mocked when 
Noah begged of them to come into the ark, would now run 
to the hills and ascend higher and higher as the waters of 
the flood urged them on. " We shall not surely die," would 



THE MOUNTAINS WERE COVERED. 295 

still be their fondly cherished thought, as step by step they 
climbed to higher and, as they supposed, safer ground. 

But on, on, on rises the relentless deluge. The plain is 
now a sea upon which the ark still floats securely; the great 
hills in which they trusted have become low islands, and the 
tide is still advancing. Summit after summit disappears, 
and, with them, all who took refuge upon them and trusted 
in them for safety. Finally, "the mountains were cov- 
ered," and all was over. The ark is now higher than the 
loftiest mountain summit ; and, had the waters risen ten 
thousand fathoms more, it would still have been secure. 

There is much instruction in the brief narrative we have 
of the flood. In the deluge we have an awful emblem of 
the curse which will surely overwhelm a world of sinners, 
and above which no hills of morality, no mountains of 
human excellence and greatness, can lift us. "The moun- 
tains were covered;" they will be covered again. 

But, blessed be God, we have an ark into which every 
one who will may come. Christ is that ark. In the days 
before the flood men despised the ark, and none took refuge 
in it save Noah and his family. They preferred to trust in 
the hills and mountains which surrounded them in case of 
danger, which they did not believe would be very great. 
Now men are doing the very same thing. They hear warn- 
ings of the coming flood; but they are hardly at all alarmed. 
< 'Let those who live in low places, the profane, the drunken, 
the dishonest, be warned; but I am too high up to be in 
any danger from the flood you speak of. I am an honest 
man; I wrong no one; I do my duty. Let those who are 
in danger get into the ark : but I shall trust in the elevated 
ground upon which I stand." Ah ! deluded man, bear in 
mind, "the mountains were covered." Where, oh! where, 
in the coming flood, will your high ground be when again 
the mountains shall be covered? 



296 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

From a point still loftier, a voice comes saying, " I stand 
on higher ground still. Here no light is needed but that of 
Reason. From my stand-point I 'look through Nature up 
to Nature's God/ and behold all things continue as they 
were from the beginning. There will be no change. There 
is no danger. ' Where is the promise of his coming?* " 
Well, proud man, remember, "the mountains were cov- 
ered" at a time when men might have talked just as you do. 

Another, still more foolish, builds himself a perch of 
cold, barren and fruitless orthodoxy out of the scaffolding 
used in the erection of the ark, not considering that that 
kind of rubbish will be the first thing that the flood will 
sweep away. As long as the door stood open, he could and 
did run in and out, and men regarded him as one of its 
inmates. But they were mistaken. He rested outside, and 
he kept his treasure outside ; and when God came and shut 
the door, he was out. Branding upon his forehead the 
fearful term, "hypocrite/' he cast him into the surging 
billows. 

Nothing on this earth was so lofty that it could raise its 
head above the waters of the flood ; so nothing is so high, 
so excellent, but the flood of divine wrath will overwhelm 
it. There is no safety but in the ark. Fear not, active, 
ardent young man, that your powers will be crippled and 
confined in this ark. In that which Noah built they would 
have been ; but this, thank God, is as broad as the earth 
and as high as heaven. It is a secure and pleasant abode, 
in which dwell all the excellent of the earth. Nowhere else 
does the light shine so sweetly ; for the Lamb is the light 
thereof. Nowhere else is the prospect so grand; for it 
reaches to heaven itself. Nowhere else is such joy and 
peace ; for Jesus comes daily and takes up his abode in it, 
saying : "Peace be unto you ; my peace I give unto you ; 
not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your 
heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." 



SALVATION COMPLETED. 297 

Co*ne down from those mountains and hills, for they can- 
not save. They will surely be covered. Come to Jesus, 
who alone is the ark of safety. As in the deluge not one 
was saved except those in the ark, so will it be in the end of 
the world. But be sure you are in. The most dangerous 
place in the world is to be near it, yet not in. Remember, 
you may be in the church ; yet not in the ark. You may 
give assent to every word that God has spoken ; and yet be 
outside. Your blows in the work of building the ark may 
have been heard for years resounding through all the 
valley; yet you may have no part in it. You must be in, 
and God must shut you in, before you are safe. You must 
be in Christ. Reason cannot save ; morality cannot save ; 
the church as a visible organization cannot save ; many and 
long prayers cannot save; sound doctrine, firmly held and 
zealously contended for, cannot save ; for all these, if these 
be all, will, like the mountains in the days of Noah, be cov- 
ered. There is nothing left but this : "Come thou into the 
ark!" 



That is a sweet account we have in Revelation vii. of the 
condition of those who out of much tribulation, having 
washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the 
Lamb, have got home to their everlasting rest. The language 
used by the celestial being, here called an elder, is so calm, 
so graphic and comprehensive, that nothing more can be 
desired. The prophet had a vision of the Saints' Rest in 
heaven, and one of the elders asked him, "What are these 
which are arrayed in white robes?" " Sir, thou knowest," 
was the modest reply of the astonished and bewildered prophet. 
The scene was so different from anything he had ever wit- 
nessed. He had seen Jesus weeping, groaning, dying. He 



298 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

had known him as a man of sorrows and familiar with grief. 
He had seen his blood flowing from his hands and feet, and 
gushing from his heart when pierced by the soldier's spear. 
He had seen the Holy One in great tribulation, and, with 
thousands of his suffering followers, he had himself journeyed 
through a long and weary life. But such scenes of glorious 
rest and joy as now met his gaze were new to him, and 
therefore he turned to this inhabitant of heaven and said, 
"Sir, thou knowest." As if he had said, "As there is 
nothing on earth like this which I see, as there are no be- 
ings on earth like these, I cannot tell what they are, or who 
they are." 

And the elder replied, u These are they which came out 
of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made 
them white in the blood of the Lamb ; therefore are they 
before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in 
his temple; and He that sitteth upon the throne shall dwell 
among them." 

How many are there of these happy ones? We know not; 
but they are spoken of as a multitude which no man can 
number. Whence came they ? From earth, from all nations 
and all generations. Abel is there, and so are the good men 
of whom we read in the world's earliest records. Naomi 
is there, whose life was so embittered by tribulation that 
she told her friends to call her Mara ; and so is the fond 
and loving Ruth, who went forth in faith and patience 
to toil amongst the reapers under the ardent sun of Pales- 
tine, that she and her beloved mother might not perish 
with hunger.* Job is there ; but the wicked one can no 
longer trouble him. David is there; but his harp gives out 
no more wailing sounds. Jeremiah is there ; but God has 
wiped all tears from his eyes. The apostles and martyrs are 
there, and so are all who amid sorrow and trial stood up for 
Jesus during the dark ages. Thus have they been gathered 



SALVATION COMPLETED. 299 

from all generations, from all conditions in life, from palaces, 
from halls of learning, from city and country, from toil and 
drudgery, from persecution and scorn, from infancy and 
age, from weakness, fears, temptations, infirmities and sins. 

But their robes are washed white in the blood of the 
Lamb ; all are arrayed in the wedding garment ; all are 
alike holy; and every one sings the same song, ascribing all 
the glory of his salvation to Him who washed him in his 
blood. However different they were while on earth in con- 
dition and character, in one thing these redeemed ones were 
alike, they were all sinners ; their natures were unholy, and* 
their lives — if they lived long enough to form any character 
at all — were more or less stained with sin. Joseph, with all 
the beauties of his blameless record, is washed in the blood 
of the Lamb, as much as are the blood-stained Manasseh and 
the persecuting Saul of Tarsus; as much as the royal slayer 
of Uriah and the malefactor who died in penitence by the 
side of his suffering Redeemer. All are washed. All are 
alike white, spotless, holy. All have made their robes white 
in the blood of the Lamb. 

But we are not to infer from this likeness in purity, this 
perfect holiness, given by the atoning blood of Jesus, that 
the redeemed in heaven will be alike in all respects. As one 
star differeth from another star in glory, so will the saints 
differ one from another in heaven. So, we may be sure, 
will there be great diversity in taste, in fitness for particular 
services, and in power to rise to loftier and grander views of 
the glories of God. Gabriel, when showing to Daniel the 
winding up of the great drama of this fallen but redeemed 
world, said, (i They that be wise shall shine as the brightness 
of the firmanent, and they that turn many to righteousness 
as the stars for ever and ever." It is wonderful what diver- 
sity of gifts and powers the short lives of men in this world 
bring forth. In less than fifty years they often acquire such 



300 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

power and influence as to draw upon them the eyes of the 
whole world. What then must be the progress of such spirits 
through unlimited duration, each following the line of his 
peculiar idiosyncrasy. Think of the language, the eloquence, 
the poetry, the music, the philosophy, the profound learn- 
ing of heaven; for, says the heavenly speaker, "The Lamb 
which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and 
lead them unto living fountains of waters." Christ himself 
shall be their companion and their teacher, their intimate 
and loving friend, opening to them fresh fountains of knowl- 
edge and rapture, and causing them to comprehend more 
and more what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and 
height, and to know his love which passeth knowledge, — 
which can never, never be fully known — and thus fill them 
with all the fullness of God. 

So God in his word sets heaven before us. He does not 
give us its topography, nor describe it as a man would de- 
scribe a city or a country; but he does tell us where a portion 
of its inhabitants come from, and how they were fitted for 
their glorious heritage. He does tell us that their number 
is very great, a multitude which no man can number ; that 
they are clothed in white robes and have palms — emblems 
of victory and triumph — in their hands ; that their robes 
are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. All 
are his ; and washed in his blood and clothed in his right- 
eousness, they are more honored than angels, and lifted more 
nearly to the Divine. 

Here is where our Lord bids us lay up our treasures, so 
that our hearts may be there also. If we are believers, we 
shall soon be there. Then surely we ought to look forward 
with joyful hope to the day when God shall call us home 
from sin and sorrow, from the vexations and disquietudes of 
this life, to the perfect rest of that, and thus have some sweet 
foretaste of heaven to buoy us up amid the tribulations of 
earth — an anchor to the soul both sure and steadfast. 



THE LEAVEN IN THE MEAL. 30I 

The Scriptures represent this present life as a pilgrimage. 
Here we have no continuing city, is the emphatic declara- 
tion ; and Bunyan's matchless allegory, which sets forth this 
great verity with graphic fidelity, has more vitality than any 
other uninspired book, just because it is so true. We follow 
his pilgrims through the hard, the humble, the perilous way, 
until they reach the river. With anxious solicitude we watch 
them as best we may in their passage through the cold, dark 
waters, and then gladly witness their entrance into the celes- 
tial gates. Why is it so hard to realize in sober verity that 
we are the very people he has there described, and that our 
chief business in life is to travel on, taking thankfully the 
blessings which the Lord of the way has scattered in our 
path, but never thinking of making them our portion — taking 
patiently the trials and conflicts with which we meet, know- 
ing that all things work for good? Many of us are nearly 
through — almost at the margin of the river. Some may 
shrink from the chilling flood; some may keep their eyes so 
low that they can see nothing but the river; while others 
can look across to the "shining shore' ' on the other side, 
and sing with David, "Though I walk through the valley of 
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with 
me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." 



Mt fEtowen itt tit* *$Xti\l 

The thirteenth chapter of Matthew's Gospel is a constel- 
lation of parables, so simple and expressive, that the feeblest 
minds can understand them without danger of error or mis- 
take; yet so profound that the mightiest intellects can never 
fathom their depths. In these Christ tells us what the king- 
dom of heaven is, by showing us what it is like : A sower 
sowing seed ; wheat and tares growing together in the same 

26 



302 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

field; leaven, which a woman hid in three measures of 
meal; a grain of mustard seed, which, although so small, 
grew to be a shelter for the birds of the air ; treasure hid in 
a field; one pearl of great price; and a net cast into the 
sea, which gathered of every kind. 

The evangelist, in recording this cluster of similitudes, 
quotes two of the psalms in which Christ is prophetically 
spoken of — the forty-ninth and the seventy-eighth — "I will 
open my mouth in parables, I will utter things which have 
been kept secret from the foundation of the world." Thus 
did Jesus, by a few plain, homely, and universally under- 
stood similitudes, make known to mankind truths which all 
the learning of the world and the investigation of unaided 
reason could never have discovered — " things, " as the 
prophet expresses it, " which had been kept secret from the 
foundation of the world,' ' and but for him would have re- 
mained unknown forever. This is the only way in which 
it is possible for us to learn any thing at all of heavenly 
things. It is telling of heavenly things in earthly language. 
You remember what Jesus said to Nicodemus, when he was 
unable to comprehend or accept the doctrine of the new 
birth, which was a heavenly truth illustrated by a well- 
known phenomenon of earth : " If I have told you earthly 
things and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I tell you 
of heavenly things?" But the most wonderful thing about 
these parables of our Saviour are their brevity, simplicity 
and vigor. Surely he was right who said, " Never man 
spake like this man !" 

Let us look at one — so brief that it is all embraced in 
these few words: "The kingdom of heaven is like unto 
leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of 
meal, till the whole was leavened." The parable, short as 
it is, is complete in all its parts. Leaven : all civilized peo- 
ple know what that is, by observation at least, if not scien- 



THE LEAVEN IN THE MEAL. 303 

tifically. A woman hid it in, or mixed, or incorporated it 
with three measures of meal. A measure is not quite a peck 
and a half. Three measures, therefore, would be a little 
over a bushel. As in the Prodigal Son, he tells the whole 
story, and gives the result — " the whole was leavened." 

In this parable we have set before us both the active, en- 
ergetic, diffusive, all-subduing power of the Gospel in the 
world, and also the life-giving energy of the grace of God in 
the individual soul, for both are the seats of the kingdom of 
heaven. Jesus planted his kingdom in the world, as the 
woman hid the leaven, and for more than eighteen centuries 
it has been operating upon the enormous mass, and will con- 
tinue to operate until the whole is leavened. Jesus lodges 
in a human heart, dead in trespasses and sins, through the 
influences of the Holy Spirit, the principle of life, as the 
woman of the parable put the leaven into the dead mass of 
meal. There it operates silently and unseen, assimilating 
all the powers of the soul to itself, until the entire nature is 
changed, and brought into the image of the ever blessed God. 

Leaven is a kind of life, and in its peculiar power of as- 
similation, changing the whole mass of meal to its own na- 
ture, it affords the most striking emblem to be found in all 
the range of natural phenomena of the work of grace in the 
soul. It is, to be sure, but a feeble emblem of life; but it is 
not the measure of its vitality, but its diffusive nature and 
its assimilating power, that Jesus wishes to set before us as 
emblematic of the grace which he implants in the soul. 
When Paul writes to his Ephesian brethren and says, " You 
hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins," he 
speaks of the same thing that Jesus sets forth in this concise 
parable. But that we may know the extent and power of 
the life given by that quickening, that new birth, that change 
of nature, we have only to hear his prayer for them, that 
God " would grant them, according to the riches of his 



304 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the 
inner man ; that Christ may dwell in their hearts by faith ; 
that they, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able 
to comprehend with all saints what is .the breadth, and 
length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of 
Christ which passeth knowledge, and that they might be 
filled with all the fullness of God." 

In these words of immeasurable energy the apostle sets 
forth the kingdom of heaven as Christ establishes it in the 
human soul — that same kingdom which he compares to 
leaven which a woman took and hid in three measures of 
meal. 

The leaven, as it sets forth the kingdom of heaven in the 
world at large, is the same in its mighty assimilating and 
changing power upon the dead mass in which it has been 
lodged. It has been working through the centuries with 
ever-increasing power, and will work, until all shall be sub- 
dued. Let us see the glorious consummation, as given by 
the apocalyptic prophet : " And the seventh angel sounded, 
and there were great voices in heaven saying, The kingdoms 
of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of 
his Christ, and he shall reign for ever and ever." 



Mt fpw at §mU\munt 

The doctrine of Development, as held and set forth by 
Darwin and others of that school of speculative philoso- 
phers, has much truth in it ; and it is that truth which ren- 
ders their speculations dangerous. It is true, so far as it 
represents all created things as in a constant, steady, never- 
ending state of progression from lower to higher planes ; as 
no one can fail to observe who intelligently studies the geo- 
logical structure of our globe, and contemplates the re- 



THE LAW OF DEVELOPMENT. 305 

mains of vegetable and animal life from their earliest, sim- 
plest, crudest forms, up through successive periods of vast 
duration to the day when God said " Let us make man." 
Upward Progress, or, in other words, Development, is 
plainly one of the laws of God, immutable as himself, and 
doubtless, like himself, endless. It is a pleasant thought that 
this boundless theatre of Divine wisdom, goodness and 
energy is steadily progressing, and will forever continue to 
progress, towards perfection — from dark, unorganized chaos 
to higher and higher degrees of order, beauty and blessed- 
ness, the absolute end of which will never be reached. 

But the error of this system of philosophy lies in this : 
Nature is substituted for the Author of Nature ; the forces 
of Nature for the divine energy ; and the unvarying re- 
lation of cause and effect is mistaken for that ever present, 
ever operating Power which, although above what we call 
Nature, is pleased to operate in this way through unnum- 
bered agencies, most of which we can observe, and some of 
which we can comprehend/ A Darwinian philosopher 
would say that Nature, from its exuberant stores of vegeta- 
ble and animal production, furnishes food for the fowls of 
the air; but Jesus says, "Your Heavenly Father feedeth 
them." Is there any disagreement here? Only this: Jesus 
sees farther than the philosopher. He sees God above 
Nature, and using Nature as a man would use an instrument, 
a thing utterly powerless, however perfect, without his 
living energy and directing skill; while the philosopher, 
the " thinker," as such a man complacently terms himself, 
sees only the instrument. 

The difficulty which all such teachers encounter lies in 
their first step. Some of them profess to believe in an In- 
finite Personal Intelligence as the First Cause, while others 
stagger at this idea, and seem to regard Nature and God as 
one, a kind of pantheistic notion, incapable of clear defini- 



306 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

tion. But even those of them who hold to the belief in a 
personal Deity speak of him as having a past, a present, 
and a future, as all created things, whether animate or inan- 
imate, necessarily have. They speak of him as having in 
the far past, long, long ago, given to matter certain laws, 
and as having put into action certain forces, which would 
operate of themselves, as a man would make and wind up a 
clock and let it run, or draw water upon a mill-wheel, 
which will do its work without further effort or supervision 
on his part. Thus they miss their way in the very first 
step of their progress in the search of truth, by limiting 
the Infinite and Holy One to the conditions in which they 
are conscious of being themselves entrenched— as having a 
past, which is gone, a present, which is but a point, and 
a future, which is interminable. 

" Your Heavenly Father feedeth them," says Jesus. How? 
when? He did it when he said, or, to speak more accu- 
rately, he does it when he says, " Let the earth bring forth 
grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding 
fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself upon the earth/ ' 
That all-potent utterance, to us so old, so long ago, is with 
the great Inhabiter of Eternity coetaneous with our bread 
of this day, and with the food gathered by the birds this 
wintry morning, and for whiGh, in their own way, they 
thank him in joyous songs and merry chirpings, 

If men would only believe as they ought that the Infinite 
God is absolutely non-progressive as well in duration as in 
space ; that he fills both ; that with him there is no past, no 
future, no here, no there ; that what they call the laws of 
Nature are but his will ever and alike actively governing 
the universe which it has pleased him to construct; and that 
the forces of Nature are but the divine energy operating 
steadily and irresistibly, they would not perplex and be- 
wilder their own and others' brains with so much profound 
nonsense. 



THE LAW OF DEVELOPMENT. 307 

Above the plane of natural laws, but not in conflict with 
them, come in the laws regulating the peculiar relations be- 
tween man as a rational, immortal, and morally responsible 
being and his Maker. This required special interposition 
on the part of God, and a special revelation of his will — 
another set of laws touching man only as their subject — a 
revelation of God himself infinitely higher and clearer than 
anything that Nature or unaided reason could impart, in 
which the moral chai acter of God is set forth in a thousand 
points of view, but which is comprehensively proclaimed in 
these awful words: (Exodus xxxiv. 6) "The Lord, the 
Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and 
abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thou- 
sands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression and sin, and 
that will by no means clear the guilty." In those few 
words more is revealed of the character of the Divine Be- 
ing than men by the light of Nature and the exercise of 
their highest reasoning powers, could ever have discovered. 
This was among the early revelations. But when He who 
is the Light of the world came in our nature, and with all 
the grandeur of a God, the loving kindness of a brother, 
and the guileless simplicity of a child, took us by the hand 
and introduced us to his Father and ours, pointing us to the 
lilies of the field and to the fowls of heaven as the con- 
stant objects of God's regard and care, as well as ourselves, 
whom he acknowledges as his beloved children, how radiant 
he made all Nature, and these rigid, irrevocable and stupen- 
dous laws and forces, with the glory of the ever-present, 
ever-operating Jehovah ! He then showed us by his mighty 
works his own power over those vast and complicated 
forces, whether manifested in disease and death, or in 
stormy winds and agitated seas. Soaring far beyond the 
utmost reach of science, or the highest range of reason, he 
bears us up to Nature's God, and then bids us look down 



308 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

through Nature on its illuminated side. A poet talks about 
looking "through Nature up to Nature's God;" but such a 
look is all darkness the moment we get beyond the range 
of our senses. God, as seen in this way, has for us no light 
at all ; but when we humbly permit Jesus to show us the 
Father, we find, as John beautifully expresses it, " that 
God is light, and in him is tio darkness at all." 

While sitting at his feet, how foolish and absurd are all 
those speculative theories about the origin of things and the 
law of development which, as it is contended, brought up 
man himself from a mollusk, through an ape perchance, to 
what he is, and which will, in the lapse of ages, lift the race 
still higher ! That the first man, the immediate product of 
his Maker's power, the end and crown of his work so far as 
our globe is concerned, was a perfectly developed man is 
beyond all question ; and that the earliest of our race of 
whom we have any record, were men of great intellectual 
power is attested by the book of Job, probably the most 
ancient of extant writings, a work which, for profundity of 
thought and eloquence of diction, transcends any produc- 
tion of modern genius. " God made man upright," says 
Solomon ; but does he mean an upright savage, or a mere 
brute, as these speculators would have us believe? "But," 
adds Solomon, "he sought out many inventions. ,, Men 
w r andered away from God by transgression, and thus many 
wandering tribes lapsed into barbarism. As Paul ex- 
presses it, "they did not like to retain God in their knowl- 
edge," and the consequence was the deep degradation of 
almost the entire race. The early history of the human 
race depicts a condition of retrogradation rather than of 
progress; and whatever progress has been made in later 
periods is clearly traceable to Jesus Christ. The great 
law and power of development is found in him, and not in 
man apart from him. Every branch on earth, whether in- 



DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 309 

dividual or national, which either did not or does not abide 
in, him, is dead, or is withering and dying, and men are at 
this moment gathering them, as he said they would, and 
casting them into the fire. 



"While the earth rem aineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, 
and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease." — Gen. 
viii. 22. 

Thus did the Lord announce the regular and perpetual al- 
ternations. of Nature after the great catastrophe of the deluge. 
These changes are all beautiful in their season, all salutary, 
and all essential to the development of the mighty scheme. 

In the spiritual world the same general law prevails. Cold 
and heat, summer and winter, day and night are found as 
invariably in the kingdom of Grace on earth as in that of 
Nature. The sun is the natural light of the world; but 
nothing that has life, whether vegetable or animal, could bear 
his perpetual shining. Shadow and gloom are as essential to 
their healthy development as is light ; and the same is true 
of the light of God in the soul. But abstract reasoning on 
such a subject is not so profitable as is the study of some 
examples of this wholesome alternation which God himself 
has given us in the inspired Scriptures. In these examples 
we see God at times leaving some of the most highly favored 
of his servants to sink to the verge of despair. Abraham 
was in this condition (Gen. xv.) when God called to him, 
and said, "Fear not, Abram; I am thy shield, and thy 
exceeding great reward." And Abram said, "Lord God, 
what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the stew- 
ard of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus ?" Jacob was 
in the dark when he uttered the despairing cry, "Joseph is 



3IO GATHERINGS IN BETJLAH. 

not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away; all 
these things are against me." Moses was groping his way 
in darkness and despondency when he exclaimed, " All our 
days are passed away in thy wrath ; we spend our years as 
a tale that is told;" and thick and terrible was the gloom 
that rested upon the spirit of Job when he cursed his day. 
But all these eminent saints were delivered from their fears, 
and led forth into higher paths, clearer light, and more 
glorious displays of the Divine goodness. 

In carefully studying the historical Scriptures, we shall 
find that many of the most distinguished and active of the 
servants of God were severely tried in this way, almost im- 
mec-ia- oly after they had achieved their most signal triumphs. 
At present I shall only allude to two of these — two so similar 
in their spirit and power that, in prophetic language, they 
are spoken of as one. Both were austere, severe, and in- 
trepid; both were full of the Holy Spirit; both visited Israel 
in times of general apostasy and declension; and both came 
so fully accredited from the court of Heaven that all men 
acknowledged them as prophets. Kings trembled at their 
words, and were constrained to yield obedience ; and the 
people were led by both to some degree of repentance and 
reformation of manners. It is hardly necessary to tell the 
reader that we are speaking of Elijah the Tishbite, and of 
John the Baptist. 

After three years of terrible struggle and of fearful judg- 
ments, Elijah summoned the king and people of Israel, to- 
gether with the priests of Baal, to meet him at the base of 
Carmel, and there, by fire from heaven, attest the claims of 
Jehovah to be the God of Israel. All the people fell on 
their faces and made confession of the great truth; and 
Ahab, in all his pride and power — bigoted devotee of idol- 
atry as he was — cowered before the solitary prophet, and 
yielded an unresisting obedience to his commands. At his 



DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 3* I 

word rain, which had been withheld for three years and a 
half, descended in torrents; and in triumph he ran with 
giant strength in advance of the chariot of the discomfited 
monarch to the capital of his kingdom. Doubtless Elijah 
thought the victory complete ; and it may be that he forgot 
that it was not his arm, his power, that had achieved the 
victory. Be this as it may, it is plain from the narrative 
that the Lord, at this point, withdrew his Spirit, his sustain- 
ing hand, and the light of his countenance \ for a mere 
threat from the wife of Ahab caused him to fly for his life ; 
and the godlike hero of yesterday was transformed into the 
frightened and despairing fugitive of to-day. Hear him cry, 
as he sat in deep dejection under a juniper tree, " O Lord, 
take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers !" 
What a change ! Is this the giant hero of Carmel, at whose 
prayer the all-consuming fire from heaven descended upon 
the sacrifice? — at whose command the priests of "Baal were 
slaughtered? — at whose word the clouds roiled over the sky, 
and gave abundance of rain ? and who girded up his loins, 
and outran the royal chariot ? It is even so ; and humble, 
desponding, and useless as he seems to be, he is, perchance, 
a better man than he was yesterday. He did his work, and 
he did it faithfully and well ; and now, it having pleased 
his Master to strip him of his armor, and extinguish his 
light, shall we despise him ? Shall we presume that He who 
" knoweth our frame, who remembereth that we are dust," 
regarded him with less complacency under the juniper tree 
than he did while confronting the king and people of Israel 
at the base of Carmel ? By no means. God is still leading 
him onwards and upwards, to higher degrees of personal 
sanctification and to still more glorious services, the whole 
to be crowned with a triumphant transit from earth to heaven 
in a chariot of fire, instead of passing through the vale of 
death ! 



312 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

In his deep despondency, Elijah could still say, " I have 
been w try jealous for the Lord God of hosts;" but although 
more humble, was he less jealous then ? Surely not. Dark 
as was his condition, he was as true, as faithful, as safe, and 
as much beloved of his God as ever ; and when he emerged 
from his deep gloom into the light of God's countenance, 
how sweet it would be ! Thenceforth he would be a humbler, 
wiser; better and stronger man. 

We come now to consider him who came "in the spirit 
and power of Elias," the eloquent and intrepid forerunner 
of the Redeemer. Although no terrible miracles attested 
the divine character of his mission, yet so grand, so un- 
earthly, so strange and wondrous were his words, that all 
Israel was moved and awakened by them. To John was 
given the high honor of introducing immediately to the 
people of that generation Him of whom all the prophets 
had written, and to cry, "Behold the Lamb of God !" At 
his hands even the Son of God was pleased to receive the 
rite of baptism; and then he saw the Spirit, like a dove, 
descending upon him, and heard the voice of the Eternal 
Father testifying, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased." 

Of this great and highly favored and gifted man, Jesus 
himself testified that "Of those born of woman there had 
not arisen a greater than John the Baptist." But his career 
of labor, glory and triumph was quickly run. His bright 
beams, like those of the morning star, gradually and sweetly 
faded in the superior glories of the Sun of Righteousness, 
and he was lost to the sight of men. 

But John was a man, a saint, as well as a prophet. He 
had been highly exalted — it was needful that he should be 
deeply depressed. For his intrepid faithfulness he was thrown 
into prison, and there left to wear away the sad days of soli- 
tude, gloom and inactivity. Like Elijah under the juniper 



DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 313 

tree, he might be constrained to pray, "O Lord, take away 
my life, for I am not better than my fathers.'' Rumors of 
the doings of Jesus of Nazareth would reach him from time 
to time through his few adhering disciples ; but, so far as 
we can learn, Jesus had sent no kind message to his suffering 
friend, but seemed to have forgotten him. At length his 
great soul is wrapped in a pall of doubt and uncertainty, 
and who can conceive the agony of such a mind under such a 
pressure? He could bear it no longer; and summoning two 
of his disciples, he sent them to Jesus with this fearfully sig- 
nificant inquiry — "Art thou he that should come, or look we 
for another?" We can hardly imagine how John could 
doubt; but, dear reader, if you will look into your own 
heart you will find that there are, or have been, doubts there 
quite as unreasonable as were his. 

It was enough. Jesus received the messengers kindly, and 
detained them for a little while before he gave them any an- 
swer ; and in a single verse following, the evangelist Luke 
gives us an insight into the power and forecast of Jesus as 
the God of Providence, calculated to make us at once trem- 
ble and rejoice. "And in that same hour he cured many of 
their infirmities and plagues, and of evil spirits ; and unto 
many that were blind he gave sight." He knew the doubts 
that were torturing the soul of his imprisoned servant. He 
knew that his messengers were coming; and by the unseen 
operations of his power he gathered this company of un- 
conscious witnesses — of poor to be instructed, of afflicted 
ones to be healed — so that John should have full assurance 
of his being the Messiah. It would have been idle to have 
sent him a verbal message, for any pretender could have 
done that; but here Jesus exhibited to these two men his cre- 
dentials, with the seal of heaven glowing freshly upon them. 
Then calling them he said — "Go your way, and tell John 

what things ye have seen and heard ; how that the blind see, 

27 



314 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the 
dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is preached ;" and 
then added, " and blessed is he whosoever shall not be of- 
fended in me." 

From that hour John's soul would be bathed in light, and 
would rest in full trust in him in whom he believed and 
whom he served. Like Paul, he would feel that he had 
finished his course, and that for him a crown of righteousness 
was laid up. In tranquil faith and patience he would wait 
his time. Although he was not, like his illustrious brother 
of a former age, carried to heaven in a fiery chariot; yet 
soon the messenger of deliverance came, speedy and bloody, 
dismissed him from labor and suffering, and put him in pos- 
session of his great reward. 

Now, beloved, think it not strange that you are some- 
times left to grope your way in darkness, for it is a necessary 
part of a believer's discipline. It is easy to trust in God 
when his candle shines upon our head; but though harder, 
it is better, to be able to trust him in the dark. 



u mmil Wtvtt §fe." 

"Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never 
die," said Jesus to Martha, when she was mourning over 
the recently made grave of her brother ; and immediately 
he asked, " Believest thou this?" He had uttered a dis- 
tinct, concrete, pointed truth, and then inquired whether 
she believed it. Martha's reply involved a very good gen- 
eral confession of faith ; but to a reception of the wonder- 
ful disclosure of life and immortality made in her Saviour's 
declaration she could not then attain. Her thoughts hov- 
ered around that dreary tomb. Lazarus was dead, and the 



" SHALL NEVER DIE." 3^5 

thought of the dissolving form of him who had been so 
dear to her filled her soul and almost excluded hope and 
joy. She had said that she knew he would rise again in the 
resurrection at the last day ; but that was a persuasion of 
an event so remote that its rays could hardly reach her and 
illuminate the darkness of the then present hour. 

But we have clearer light and a fuller revelation than 
Martha had in that hour of grief. She had not yet seen 
Lazarus called forth, nor had her great Master himself 
died and risen again. Yet how few of us can mount above 
her in the general confession expressed in her reply, " Yea, 
Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the son of God, 
which should come into the world." A very good confes- 
sion for her in the light she had ; but the more pointed in- 
quiry still comes home to every one of us, " Believest thou 
this?" Believe what? — that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, 
as Martha did ? Yes ; but more than that. Do we really 
believe — not in some vague, figurative, spiritual sense — but 
in simple verity, that whosoever liveth and believeth in 
him shall never die ? for unquestionably this is the degree 
of faith to which the Divine Author of the declaration de- 
sires us to attain. 

It requires a revolution in our natural conceptions and 
our habitual ideas to believe this in the full and simple im- 
port of the words. We see the body die ; but we cannot 
see the disembodied spirit. Sight and faith come into con- 
flict here ; and our strongest impressions are made by that 
which strikes the senses. " Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," 
said Jesus to his disciples; but they did not understand 
him correctly, and immediately replied, "Lord, if he sleep, 
he shall do well;" for they thought he spoke of his taking 
natural rest in sleep. He then descended from his own 
plane of thought to theirs, and said plainly "Lazarus is 
dead." In the brief record of this conversation we have 



31 6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

what we usually call death set before us as it is seen in the 
light of Heaven, and also in the gloom of earth, 

Paul speaks of departed saints as " they that sleep in 
Jesus," — as sweet a phrase as was ever penned. " Some 
are fallen asleep," he says, in another place, of those who 
saw the Lord Jesus after he had risen from the dead. "We 
shall not all sleep," he says in another place, when speaking 
of the coming of the great day. Frequently the same 
great inspired writer uses the word " depart" to express 
the same thought, and " abide " as expressive of still living 
here. In Philippians i. 23, 24, he speaks in almost impas- 
sioned terms of " having a desire to depart, and to be with 
Christ, which is far better; nevertheless to abide in the 
flesh is more needful for you." Paul stood strongly and 
steadily on the high plane of faith involved in these won- 
derful words of Christ, " Whosoever liveth and believeth 
in me shall never die." In the easy and familiar style in 
which he uses these words, he shows us that he habitually 
regarded death as but a change of place, not as an end of 
life — a transition from what was good to what was " far 
better." 

Jesus, speaking of his people, says, "I give unto them 
eternal life." He does not say, I ze////give, but " I give." 
When does he give it? Let the words we have already 
quoted interpret these: "Whosoever liveth and believeth 
in me shall never die." Martha, perhaps, was not able at 
once to grasp this glorious thought ; but we have seen that 
Paul rested in it with steady and serene faith. He grasped 
the eternal life which his Saviour had given him, and thence- 
forth thought and spoke of abiding or departing instead of 
living or dying. His life was sure in either case. With 
him it was simply a question of place — either abiding in 
this world, laboring, suffering, and doing the work his 
Saviour had given him to do — or departing to be with 
Christ. 



" SHALL NEVER DIE." 317 

Paul may have risen higher in this triumph of faith over 
natural death than most other Christians ; but he was by- 
no means singular in it. Thousands, of whom the world 
at large never heard, have reached the same plane of faith, 
and looked forward, not spasmodically, but calmly and 
steadily, to the end of mortal life as the beginning of one 
that is far better. Bunyan, in his Pilgrim's Progress, sec- 
ond part, gives a beautiful account of the waiting of 
Christiana and her friends in the land of Beulah, for their 
summons to go over the river. In that simple, yet sublime 
allegory, death is utterly abolished. All are taken over in 
their proper persons and characters, and all triumphantly. 
Nothing is lost in the river but their weaknesses and infirm- 
ities. Even Mr. Ready-to-halt shouted on the river's 
brink, "Welcome, life !" Despondency cried, "Farewell, 
night! Welcome, day!" and his daughter, Much-afraid, 
went through the river singing. With the strong and the 
weak death was alike swallowed up in victory. It is per- 
fectly manifest that the author of that matchless allegory 
accepted in its fullness the wondrous truth uttered by 
Jesus, " Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never 
die." 

But the body of the believer dies, just as does the body 
of an unredeemed sinner, or one of the inferior animals. 
This is true in one sense, but in another sense it is not 
true ; for, as Martha well expressed it, it " shall rise again 
in the resurrection at the last day." The body, therefore, 
is redeemed as well as the soul. Its dissolution is changed 
from absolute death and destruction to a sleep, a temporary 
suspension of its activities. Hence, in the New Testament, 
this state of separation between soul and body is often 
called sleep. The victory over death is complete. " Jesus 
died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus 
will God bring with him." 

27* 



3 l8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

" Sleep in Jesus !" Can a sweeter thought be expressed? 
While the spirit departs to be with Christ, the body dis- 
solves in the grave. But both are equally redeemed ; both 
are united to Christ ; both are safe ; and in the resurrec- 
tion they will be reunited, never to part again. 

The wages of sin is death ; but if sin be taken away, as 
it is in the case of all believers, however feeble and imper- 
fect, death goes with it. It must be so; fox Jesus has em- 
phatically declared, " They shall never die." That which 
is still death to the unredeemed is no longer such to them. 
It is a sleep, a change, a departure, a going home, a full- 
ness and perfection of life. Nature, it is true, goes on as 
before; but He who is our life, and in whom our life is hid, 
stands above Nature, changing a tremendous curse into the 
highest of blessings. God, in infinite wisdom, has left the 
natural repulsiveness and terrors of death over us, so that we 
instinctively shrink from it, and thus are made careful to 
preserve our lives to the extent of our ability; but in in- 
finite goodness he has lifted our faith so high that this re- 
pulsiveness and terror can be so overcome, that, like 
Bunyan's pilgrims, we can go down with gladness to the 
brink of the cold dark river. 

Since the foregoing article was written, I had a letter 
from Mr. Walter Ludbrook, a dear Christian friend in 
London, who was slowly sinking under consumption, 
which began with these remarkable words: "I am not yet in 
the land of the living." He viewed death as only a de- 
parture. 



LIFE AND IMMORTALITY. 319 



We believe that the lower orders of animals perish utterly 
at their death ; that to them there is no hereafter. They 
are incapable of knowing God. There is no immediate 
link, so far as we can discover, between them and their 
Maker; and, but for what is called the religious principle, 
there could be no hereafter to man. "This is life eternal, 7 ' 
says Jesus in his last recorded prayer, "that they might 
know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou 
hast sent." 

The capability of that knowledge is the germ of life eter- 
nal, or immortality; and having that, the human being, 
whether saved or lost, whether redeemed from sin and taken 
home to the bosom of his God, or driven away in his wick- 
edness, cannot cease to exist as a conscious intelligence. 
Immortality is, therefore, in the very nature of man, an 
inherent and indestructible principle. It was implanted in 
his creation. "The Lord God . . . breathed into his nos- 
trils the breath of life, and man became a living soul " — not 
an evanescent but an ever during soul ; and whether, in 
consequence of sin, that soul shall be banished from the 
presence of the Lord and the glory of his power, or saved 
through faith, and enabled forever to rise nearer to God, 
this original law of his nature remains unchanged. This 
natural immortality is that which renders man capable of 
being the subject of the work of grace unfolded in the Scrip- 
tures ; and it was this same principle, natural to all men 
alike, which rendered it possible for the Divinity to take our 
nature upon him. 

The notion which some Christians have taken up, that 
the lost soul ceases to exist at all, has nothing either in reve- 
lation or philosophy to sustain it. To be forever banished 



320 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

is called "the second death;" but to be "driven away in 
his wickedness/' to "go away into everlasting punishment," 
are not terms in which the idea of annihilation would be 
expressed. 

Life and Immortality, however, are not convertible terms. 
To exist and to live may be the same, or they may be as 
opposite as heaven and hell. In union with God we live ; 
but separated from him there is no life, although there may 
be intensely conscious existence. Sin separates man from 
God; hence the Scriptures speak of being "dead in tres- 
passes and sins," although the subject may be full of animal 
life and vigor and of great intellectual strength. Strictly 
speaking, there is no life in the world, we mean immortal 
life ; for although unending conscious existence is an attri- 
bute of our nature, it is only in Christ, in whose person the 
Divine is linked with the human, that there is any life. In 
him that indestructible nature, which apart from him is in a 
state of paralysis, is revivified, and we begin to grow. " In 
him is life." "Your life," says the apostle, " is hid with 
Christ in God." The word "hid" here means incorporated, 
the same as in the parable where the woman hid a little 
leaven in the meal. In him we become, in our measure, 
a partakers of the divine nature;" and this is life. 

Immortality, so far as it is only a natural attribute of a 
human being, is only the undeveloped germ of eternal life. 
Animal life, in a human being, is no more than the animal 
life of a horse, and in both it is of brief duration. Eternal 
life is the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord, and is 
engrafted upon the natural but lifeless germ just spoken of. 
It is well to keep these distinctions clearly before the mind. 

That grand and heavenly principle, which in the New 
Testament is called eternal life, is not so denominated solely 
because it will never end, but mainly because it is God's ' 
own life given to us. This life is drawn directly from the 



LIFE AND IMMORTALITY. 321 

infinite Fountain of life. "I in them and thou in me," is 
the way our Lord in his prayer expresses this union of God 
with man. The thought is too high for us, but we can un- 
derstand a little of it ; and the vision is so bright and beauti- 
ful, and so in harmony with our best and most exalted con- 
ceptions, so in unison with our nature in its holiest sympa- 
thies, that we are able to cry, "Abba, Father!" and to 
know and feel what the spirit of adoption is. This is 
immortality indeed, living, growing, expanding, and climb- 
ing higher and higher above the clouds and darkness whence 
we set out. 

But how much of man is immortal? All. Christ died 
and rose again, and became the first fruits of them that 
slept. In his case we are permitted to see more of the mys- 
tery of the resurrection than we could possibly learn from 
any abstract teaching. Just before he expired upon the 
cross he cried, "Father, into thy hands I commend my 
spirit," from which we may know that his spirit departed 
like that of any other man. All that was left was a dead 
body, which kind hands removed and laid in a tomb. But 
on the morning of the third day that body was not found in 
the tomb. The linen clothes and the napkin were left, but 
not the body. Just as it was, with the prints of the nails 
and the gash in the side, it had risen. "He is not here," 
said an angel to the women, "'for he is risen, as he said. 
Come see the place where the Lord lay." 

There is something delightfully suggestive in the words of 
that angel. He did not say, "Come see the place where 
your Lord lay," but the Lord — your Lord, my Lord, the 
Lord of all. 

Soon the risen Saviour appeared to the women and to the 
disciples. Once they were affrighted and thought they saw 
a spirit; but he told them to handle him and see; for "a 
spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have." On 



322 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

another occasion he bade Thomas put his finger into the 
print of the nails, and thrust his hand into his side, all of 
which indicated a real, substantial, material body. It was, 
however, no longer a mortal body. On several occasions 
he entered where they were, the doors being shut, and van- 
ished suddenly out of their sight, teaching us that it had 
become a spiritual body, whatever that may mean. With 
that body he was parted from his disciples and carried up 
to heaven. 

It was to his body, not to' his spirit, that Christ referred 
when he said, many years after his ascension : "I am he 
that liveth, and was dead ; and behold I am alive for ever- 
more/ } The apostle exhausts all we can know in this life 
on the subject of the immortality of the entire man, both 
body and spirit, where he says, " Even so them which sleep 
in Jesus will God bring with him." 

Of the condition of the disembodied spirit between death 
and the resurrection, diverse opinions are entertained among 
Christians. Some believe that it will remain in an uncon- 
scious state during that interval, and that to it, therefore, 
the article of death and the sounding of the judgment 
trumpet will be practically coetaneous events. Others 
imagine that the souls of just men will occupy some inter- 
mediate region called Paradise, where they will await in 
quietude and peace the redemption of the body. Others, 
that the spirits of the just made perfect enter heaven at 
once, in full consciousness and capacity for its bliss, although 
not yet in the enjoyment of complete redemption. We like 
this last view of the matter ; and it accords with Paul's bright 
and ecstatic hopes, where he says, "I have a desire to de- 
part, and to be with Christ, which is far better." 

Nature suggests the idea of immortality. Many of the 
wisest of the heathen philosophers — prominent among whom 
was Plato— believed it firmly. The soliloquy which Addison 



WOOD, HAY, STUBBLE. ' 323 

puts into Cato's mouth, as he meditates suicide, expresses 
the heathen view eloquently : 

" It must be so ! Plato, thou reasonest well ; 
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, • 
This longing after immortality ?" &c. 

But Christ, who came down from the Father of lights, 
brought life and immortality to light— not as a pleasing 
hope, a fond desire, merely, but as a great and glorious 
fact. The wisest of the heathen philosophers held to the 
opinion that man had an immortal spirit ; but of the life 
which Christ not only makes known but gives, they had not 
the most remote conception. Here is where Revelation 
rises infinitely beyond anything that Nature can teach. 
They travel in harmony, as far as true philosophy can go; 
but beyond that point the just live and walk by faith alone ; 
while they who do not believe stumble into darkness and 
eternal death. 



mt&, !»!!, JWttWM*. 

These strong figures of speech, expressive of things per- 
ishable, combustible, and of no permanent value, Paul, in 
the third chapter of first Corinthians sets over in vigorous 
antithesis against gold, silver, precious stones — equally strong 
figures, expressive of things of intrinsic and enduring value. 

But to what does he apply them ? Is he contrasting the 
work of good men and bad men, of saints and sinners ? 
Not at all. Both clusters — the valuable and the worthless, 
the perishable and the enduring, that which can and that 
which cannot abide the fiery trial of the judgment — are set 
before us in startling contrast. But he is discussing the life- 
work of true believers, and nothing else. Let us quote a 



324 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

few words : "Ye are God's building. ... I have laid 
the foundation, and another buildeth thereon." 

Now, in these words the apostle is not speaking of the 
laying the foundations of churches, but of Christian char- 
acter and work. " Let every man take heed how he build- 
eth thereupon. For other foundation can no man lay than 
that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." In this argument it is 
taken for granted that the foundation is all right ; but the 
caution is, " let every man take heed how he buildeth there- 
upon." On one side he gives a cluster of precious and in- 
destructible things — gold, silver, precious stones; on the 
other side a very different cluster — wood, hay, stubble — 
things worthless and perishable. Of some of these every 
believer in Christ is building up his own character and re- 
cord ; and as he builds of the one sort or of the other, so is 
he rich or poor in a spiritual sense. Both will be saved; but 
mark the difference as Paul expresses it : "If any man's work 
abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a re- 
ward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer 
loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire." 

This shows us that this building is a personal and not an 
ecclesiastical matter. The writer is speaking of the life- 
work of individual believers. It shows us that even such 
may suffer loss through wrong building — that nearly all their 
work may be burned up, yet they themselves be saved, as 
Lot was saved from Sodom. 

The history of Abraham and Lot affords one of the most 
striking examples on record of these two kinds of building. 
The one, by a long and consistent life of faith and obedience, 
built upon his foundation gold, silver, precious stones. The 
other, by turning his face Sodomward, and by making fertile 
soil, rich pastures, and abounding flocks and herds the chief 
objects of his life and labors, built only wood, hay and stub- 
ble. He finally fled to the mountains poor and destitute, 



WOOD, HAY, STUBBLE. 325 

and at last entered heaven without having laid up any treasure 
there. 

. Solomon, with all his wisdom and all his advantages of 
fortune, built wood, hay, stubble. Let him tell his own ex- 
perience; for this seems to have been the mission which God 
gave him — to build wood, hay and stubble almost all the 
days of his life — to build as no other man ever did build; 
and then at the close of the unprofitable work in which he had 
taken delight while he was at it, to tell us of the worthless- 
ness of all his splendid achievements. He says: "I was 
great and increased more than all that were before me in 
Jerusalem ; also my wisdom remained with me ; and what- 
soever mine eyes desired I kept not from them. I withheld 
not my heart from any joy ; for my heart rejoiced in all my 
labor; and this was my portion of all my labor. Then I 
looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on 
the labor that I had labored to do, and behold, all was van- 
ity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the 
sun." As Paul expresses it, he suffered loss; his work was 
burned. Doubtless he himself was saved, yet so as by fire. 

Now contrast that man — with all his advantages, his vast 
wealth, his peaceful and prosperous surroundings, his wisdom 
and far-reaching knowledge — with his father David, who in 
his turbulent and troubled life built more gold, silver, pre- 
cious stones than did any saint who blessed the world before 
the advent of the Son of Man. 

" Whoso giveth a cup of cold water to a disciple in the 
name of a disciple, shall in no wise lose his reward/' is the 
language of Him before whose judgment seat we all must 
be gathered. That little act will there be laid up as treasure 
in heaven. And what mean these words: "Lay up for 
yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust 
doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor 
steal." Let the passage about building upon the only sure 

28 



326 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

foundation cast light upon this great saying, and then let 
these words of the Saviour illuminate that passage, and at 
once the startling truth bursts upon us, that it is possible to 
be saved and yet be destitute of those precious possessions 
which Jesus calls treasures in heaven, and which Paul sets 
forth under the triple figure of gold, silver, precious stones. 
That it is possible for even true believers to suffer loss, yet 
be saved, by giving their chief labor and care to the build- 
ing of wood, hay, stubble, upon the true foundation. Hence 
the solemn warning: " Let every man take heed how he 
buildeth thereupon." Closely allied to this thought are 
these words of the Master: "Make to yourselves friends 
of the mammon of unrighteousness." This will turn the 
wood, hay and stubble into gold, silver, precious stones, as 
that rich young man would have found to his infinite profit 
and joy had he obeyed the voice of Him whose instruction 
he sought. 



Jmit torn tlte Wxu of pfr. 

In the closing chapter of the inspired volume John 
shows us, as the angel showed him, the river of life, and 
also the tree of life, which bore twelve manner of fruits, 
and the leaves of which were for the healing of the nations. 
That river flows, that tree grows and bears fruit, here and 
now. They will be found in heaven, too ; but in heaven 
there are no nations to be healed. 

Christ gives us similar figurative descriptions of himself, 
where he speaks of living water, and where he takes to 
himself the figure of the True Vine — the centre and source 
of all spiritual life, and of all God-glorifying fruit. 

In his recorded discourses we can see this tree of life 



FRUIT FROM THE TREE OF LIFE. 327 

expanding in multitudinous branches, all richly laden with 
fruit in endless and inexhaustible variety, and every word 
is full of grace and truth. Hence he declared, " My 
words, they are spirit and they are life." 

But what good will it do us to stand off at a distance and 
gaze and admire this rich profusion of fruit, and these beau- 
tiful and healing leaves ? We must pluck and eat this life- 
giving fruit, and apply these healing leaves to our sick and 
wounded nature. Suppose we were brought to such a tree 
while hungry, thirsty, sick and faint, would we stand and 
look and speculate upon the nature of the fruit and its qual- 
ity? Or would we puzzle ourselves about its chemical proper- 
ties, and calculate to a nicety how much was due to the soil, 
how much to the atmosphere, and how much to the sun- 
shine ? Hungry, fainting people don't act in that way : 
and our blessed Saviour does not wish us to act in that way 
when we come to him; but his invitation is, "Eat, O 
friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved — let your 
soul delight itself in fatness." 

In his parable of the Prodigal Son, Jesus gives us a clus- 
ter of fruit, abundant, rich and various — truth, love, par- 
don, encouragement, grace, mercy and peace. Brief and 
simple as it looks on the sacred page, it is like the loaves 
and fishes of the miracle, inexhaustible, and more than 
enough for all. In the father's forgiving love, and in the 
bad conduct of the son, the wretchedness of the sin- 
ner who wanders away from God ; the nature of true re- 
pentance and the works meet for it ; the goodness of God 
in meeting and blessing the returning penitent while yet a 
great way off; and the perfect restoration to favor and son- 
ship, no mattter how vile, rebellious and degraded he may 
have been, are all set forth. 

In the feast of gladness, in which the kind father cele- 
brated the return of his lost son, the joy in heaven over one 



328 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

sinner that repenteth is set before us ; and even out of the 
carping, grumbling envy of the elder son, Jesus draws a 
grand and delightful truth. The evil of the heart of that 
hitherto dutiful son burst forth lamentably, as the bad pas- 
sions of Christians often do. But, badly as he behaved, the 
father's loving kindness remains unchanged. Hear his kind 
expostulation : "Son, thou art ever with me, and all that 
I have is thine." Every word is full of grace and kindness. 

He calls him son, although he is hard, rebellious and dis- 
respectful — grumbling because his father had never re- 
joiced over him in the same way. " Son," he cries, "thou 
art ever with, me." Sin, such as this man committed on 
this occasion, grievous and damaging as it was, did not 
separate him from his father's love. " My loving-kindness 
will I not take from them/' says our Father in Heaven, 
"nor suffer my faithfulness to fail." "Son, thou art ever 
with me," said he, " and all that I have is thine." His re- 
lationship, his father's presence, and his inheritance are all 
secure. Not one upbraiding word falls upon his ear ; no 
frown meets his upturned gaze ; and we may hope that the 
father's goodness led him to repentance, and that he went 
in and became glad over the return of his long lost and 
almost ruined brother. 

God says, through Isaiah, " Come, let us reason to- 
gether;" so this father reasons with his obstinate and mur- 
muring elder son: "It was meet that we should make 
merry and be glad ; for this thy brother was dead and is 
alive again, he was lost and is found." Sad indeed is the 
condition of that Christian heart which does not rejoice 
over the repentance ^.nd return of a sinner, even though he 
may have devoured the gifts of God with harlots, and sunk 
to the degradation of a swine-herd. Yet there are some 
Christians so cold, so full of clannish prejudice, that, like 
this elder son, they grow angry and will not go in. 



RENDING OF THE VEIL. 329 

But the elder son, like the younger, is forgiven, and the 
father's loving-kindness is not removed from him. But is 
not the father's goodness more signally manifested in his 
case than in that of his returned brother ? I think so. In 
one case we see how our Heavenly Father receives a re- 
turning sinner ; in the other, we see how kindly and indul- 
gently he deals with his cold-hearted, petulant, murmur- 
ing and discontented children. O brothers in Christ, it is 
of the Lord's mercies that we are not all consumed ! 

So may we go on searching among the multitudinous 
branches of the tree of life for fruit to nourish and 
strengthen us ; and here in this deeply touching appendix 
to this parable of the prodigal son, we find some fruit ex- 
actly adapted to the case of cold, hard, petulant, narrow, 
prejudiced, party-ridden professors — true Christians it may 
be, but of a low type. Let the noble and generous words 
which our Lord has put into the mouth of this good old 
man, addressed to his discontented son, sink deep into our 
hearts. 



§em\\m a tft* mi 

When Jesus expired upon the cross the veil of the temple 
was rent in twain from the top to the bottom. This veil 
divided the most holy place from the outer courts of the 
temple. Into that inner sanctuary none were allowed to 
enter save the high priest, and he only once a year, carrying 
the sacrificial blood, as an atonement for his own and the 
people's sins. 

The rending of that sacred veil at that awful moment is 
profoundly significant. It marked the dividing line between 
the Mosaic and the Christian dispensations. It was heaven's 

28* 



330 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

announcement to earth that the great sacrifice which could 
really take away sin, and of which all the sacrifices of bulls 
and goats and lambs had been only symbolical, had been 
made and accepted. 

But it has a still higher significance. The most holy place 
— holier than that which the high priest entered yearly and 
sprinkled with blood — holier than the mercy seat, over- 
shadowed as it was with cherubic wings, was thrown open 
to all believers alike, even the throne of God, with the 
Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world, upon 
it. No bar, no veil now excludes the common worshiper 
from "the Holiest of All." There is no priest now but 
Christ; and when pastor and people come to the mercy seat, 
nis blood cleanses them, his life vivifies them, his love em- 
braces them all alike; while his voice to them is, "One is 
your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren " — breth- 
ren one of another, and my brethren. 

No doubt the people of Israel, when they saw their high 
priest lift that awful veil and pass into the most holy place 
would regard him as highly favored — as lifted above the 
ordinary plane of humanity. And so he was. But now 
every one who believes in Jesus is lifted higher still ; for by 
faith he can take the blood of the Lamb and go, not behind 
that veil, but into the very presence of the Most Holy, and 
receive remission of sins and the unspeakably precious gift 
of the Holy Ghost. We can come directly "to Him that 
loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, 
and hath made us kings and priests unto God his Father.' ' 

But again : this rending of the veil is a type of the opening 
of heaven itself. " Father, into thy hands I commend my 
spirit," said the dying Saviour; and then, we may be sure* 
heaven's gates were thrown wide open to receive him. 
Stephen, just before his death, saw Heaven open, and Jesus 
standing on the right hand of God. This, to him, was a 



RENDING OF THE VEIL. 33 1 

rending of the veil even to his natural sight; and thousands 
of departing saints have seen by faith what Stephen saw. 
Since Jesus passed from earth to heaven, only a shadow 
separates them — a narrow valley, and that not dark; for 
the light from the other side pierces through it, sometimes 
with a brilliance which makes it surpassingly beautiful; and 
the spirit goes away from this world to that as the sun often 
sets in the midst of clouds gloriously illuminated. Our 
natural perception can see only the blackness of darkness. 
A little faith sends a faint glimmer athwart the dismal pas- 
sage. But let a Christian gaze by faith upon this light while 
on his pilgrimage, while still dealing with the labors and 
cares, the joys and sorrows, the ups and downs, the rough 
and smooth of life, and by degrees the feeble and far- 
off glimmer will grow into a stronger and all-surrounding 
glory, and the dark valley will be more luminous than earth 
ever was. This is what Peter means when lie talks about 
having an abundant entrance into that higher and better 
world beyond the river. 

Let us not forget that the veil was rent from top to bottom, 
and that now we can come, each one for himself, with no 
obstructing veil, no intervening priest, " boldly unto the 
throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace, 
to help in time of need;" and that we can walk through 
the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil, and 
shout with David as we go, "I will behold thy face in 
righteousness ; I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy 
likeness." 



33 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



We never feel the poverty of human language more than 
when pondering the weighty and burning words of the 
apostle, where he labors with human power to set forth that 
principle which links the human to the divine, and which 
the English translators have expressed by the word Charity 
— a word which to most minds conveys the idea of benevo- 
lence or generosity — liberality in giving or magnanimity 
and kindness in judging. Hence we have the word often 
applied to institutions and to acts for the relief of destitution 
and suffering. But it is plain that this is not what Paul is 
talking about; for he declares that a man may give all his 
goods to feed the poor and yet be destitute of charity. - 

Some contend that the word would have been better 
translated Love. Perhaps so; but that also is too narrow 
to convey a conception of the grace or principle here set 
forth. Love is a single grace ; but that which our transla- 
tors have called by the single word charity, seems to be the 
sum of all graces. Even Faith and Hope are swallowed up 
in it, or, rather, so blended with it that its absence would 
be death to the other two. Whatever it may be, and how- 
ever we may labor to define it, we feel that it is the Alpha and 
Omega of the Christian spirit and character.' I think the 
best definition we can give is, that it is the Spirit of Christ ; 
for it is written, " If any man have not the Spirit of Christ 
he is none of his." 

Now let us examine its characteristics, as it is set forth in 
i Cor. xiii. 

" Charity suffer eth long, and is kind" — The whole life of 
Christ from the manger to the cross is but one spotless com- 
mentary upon these words. Where can we find such long- 
suffering and kindness as he exhibited? 



CHARITY. 333 

" Charity envieth not." — Of him only who was holy, 
harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners can this be 
said with absolute truth. 

" Vaunteth not itself." — Christ solemnly declares that he 
came not to seek his own glory, but the glory of Him that 
sent him. Meek and lowly in heart, he came not to be 
ministered unto but to minister. "I am amongst you (he 
says) as him that serveth." 

"Is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly." — 
Conscious as he was of his infinite dignity, and clothed with 
almighty power, who of all the sons of men gave such a pat- 
tern of meekness and humility as Jesus ? The poor and the 
despised could and did approach him with glad confidence, 
and were never rejected. Look at that woman in the house 
of Simon the . Pharisee, at poor Bartimeus by the way side, 
and at those mothers with their little children ! 

u Seekcth not her own." — Here, in these four words, is 
the great distinguishing trait in the character of our Re- 
deemer set forth. He "was rich, but for our sakes he 
became poor, that we through his poverty might be made 
rich." Such disinterested benevolence as he showed is in- 
finitely beyond parallel. 

" Is not easily provoked." — Of this grace Christ stands as 
the unapproachable exemplar. "When he was reviled he 
reviled not again, when he suffered he threatened not," but 
bore the contempt, the revilings, the contradiction of sin- 
ners with meekness and unruffled temper. Yet he stood in 
the world the most firm, unyielding, uncompromising and 
intrepid defender of truth and righteousness that ever ap- 
peared among men. Amid all the opposition that was 
shown him, and with all his meekness, he ever maintained 
the dignity, the majesty, the grandeur of his character. It 
is a great and dishonoring mistake to think of the meek and 
lowly Jesus as of a person of innocent and amiable pusil- 



334 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

lanimity — as one who was too good to quarrel. It is not 
true. He did quarrel. His life was one protracted warfare 
with wicked men and wickeder devils; with darkness, false- 
hood and sin ; and most wonderful of all, he passed through 
that awful battle holy, harmless and undefiled. 

u Thinketh no evil" — Hear Jesus pray for the men who 
were at the moment murdering him — " Father, forgive them; 
they know not what they do." I think these words had 
reference to the soldiers; for of them only could this kind 
apology be made. It may be that they were acting bar- 
barously, and putting him to unnecessary torture. But 
whether that prayer terminated on them or not, his words 
show that he viewed every wrong in the most favorable 
aspect. In other words, that he was eminently "chari- 
table ' ' in his judgments. 

" Rejoiceth not in iniquity." — It is needless to say that 
this is like Christ. It is very possible and very common to 
condemn and denounce with vehemence whatever is wrong, 
and yet rejoice in iniquity. Pope, in his Universal Prayer, 
has one beautiful stanza: 

tl Teach me to feel another's woe, 
To hide the fault I see ; 
That mercy I to others show, 
That mercy show to me." 

If we are not inclined to hide the faults we see, then we 
do rejoice in iniquity, however vociferously we may de- 
nounce it. The grace of which the apostle is speaking, 
where it is operative, tries to throw a mantle over others' 
faults or failings so far as duty will allow; and if the faults 
of others must be spoken of, it is done with pain and regret, 
and all mitigations which truth will warrant are thrown in. 
I have often been pained, when the good qualities of an 
absent person were spoken of, to hear some charge needlessly 



CHARITY. 335 

sprung upon him or her at the moment. Whoever will do 
such a thing has good reason to search his own heart to see 
whether he has the Spirit of Christ, whether he possesses this 
charity of which the apostle is speaking, without which he ' 
can be none of his. 

"But rejoiceth in the truth" — I think the word truth 
here is expressive of all that is true and good, whether seen 
in the abstract, or in individual character, or in the progress 
of truth and righteousness in the world. The opposite of 
this quality is described negatively in the preceding clause. 

"Beareth all things." — This embraces the grace of pa- 
tience, of which Jesus was the supreme exemplar. 

" Believeth all things!' — The grace, thus strongly but 
not very specifically portrayed, is simply the opposite of sus- 
picion and distrust. As Jesus knew all things, we can hardly 
say that he was an exemplar of this trait of Christian char- 
acter. 

" Hopeth all things" — This blends intimately with the 
immediate foregoing trait, and is the opposite of despondency 
and discouragement. Both prompt the Christian to cheer- 
ful and joyful obedience. Both are linked with the great 
principles of Faith and Hope. As making up elements in 
the supreme grace of charity, believing all things and hop- 
ing all things have reference to other persons rather than to 
ourselves. 

" Endureth all things." — Christ endured the contradic- 
tions of sinners, the toils and privations of life, and the 
ignominy and agony of the cross, willingly and patiently ; 
and when he says, " Take up thy cross," whether it be a 
cross of active service or of trial and affliction, he but invites 
us to become like him in these things. Thus the Spirit of 
Christ is finished and made perfect in his people through 
suffering. He calls us to endure all things, not because we 
must, not because we cannot resist the omnipotence of God ; 



336 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

but willingly, because it is the will of a loving Father, and 
-will work for good. If this enduring be not cheerful, it is 
not enduring at all in the sense of the passage. 

But the subject cannot be exhausted. Follow on to know 
more and more. 



4 %\l Wnp m %mx$" 

These are very simple words. A child can understand 
them. Taken together, they express a truth which cannot 
be misunderstood. All things do not mean some things ; 
but, as the words import, everything. The apostle (1 Cor. 
iii. 22, 23), in order to give clearness, force and emphasis 
to this simple truth, sweeps round the circle of all possible 
things to which the man, the believer, the Christian can 
bear any relation, and exclaims, " Whether Paul, or Apol- 
los, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things 
present, or things to come, all are yours, and ye are Christ's 
and Christ is God's !" 

The difficulty with this passage is not in understanding 
it ; for it is so plain that no words can make it plainer. I 
should as soon think of bringing out a lamp to enable my- 
self and others to see the sun, as to attempt, by any lan- 
guage I could use, to make it clearer. The trouble is that 
our hearts are too small to let in so vast and glorious a truth. 
Hence, many who hear it or read it, give a kind of intel- 
lectual assent to it ; but they do not readily believe it. 

But abstract reasoning upon such a subject as this is use- 
less. So let us try what we can do by way of illustration 
by examples. 

When Joseph made himself known to his brethren, all 
they could claim as their own were guilt, and shame, and 



"ALL THINGS ARE YOURS." 337 

confusion of face. They were troubled at his presence. 
That was all right, for it was perfectly natural; and this 
feeling made them fit subjects of the grace of their illustri- 
ous brother, just as the same kind of feeling makes us fit 
subjects of the grace of our still more glorious Brother. 
Let us hear Joseph : 

"Come near to me, I pray you; and they came near. 
And he said, I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold into 
Egypt." Thus, first of all, he gave himself, as Jesus, first 
of all gives himself, saying : " I am Jesus, your brother, 
whom, by your sins, ye hanged on a tree. Come near to 
me, I pray you." Observe, it is not come to me — for this 
Joseph's brethren had already done — but, " Come near to 
me." How near did they come? At first a few trembling 
steps nearer, until, finally, in fond embrace, they wept upon 
his neck. Thus he gave himself; and while mingled tears 
of joy and penitence flowed copiously, each would feel and 
say in his heart, " This is indeed my brother." So far the 
possession was complete. 

But Joseph did not stop here. He was rich and power- 
ful, and all Egypt was at his disposal. Pharaoh had given 
to him all power in his dominions ; but to Jesus is given 
"all power in heaven and in earth.' 7 Joseph gave to his 
father and his brethren the land of Goshen, saying : "Thou 
shalt be near unto me, thou and thy children, and thy 
children's children, and thy flocks and thy herds, and all that 
thou hast, and there will I nourish thee." Thus he gave 
them the best of the land for a possession — he prepared a 
place for them. Jesus says to his brethren, l I go to prepare 
a place for you ; and if I go to prepare a place for you, I 
will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I 
am, there ye may be also." 

But it may be said that this is one of his promises of 
blessings in reserve for another and a better life. True, 

29 



33 S GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

but he has gifts for the present as well as the future. He 
says, " I will not leave you comfortless, *I will come to 
you." And again, " Peace I leave with you, my peace I 
give unto you; not as the world giveth give I unto you. 
Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." 
And again, "Take no thought (have no anxiety) what 
ye shall eat or drink, or wherewithal ye shall be clothed ; 
for your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of 
these things. Will not God clothe you, O ye of little 
faith?" 

In view of all these examples and promises, may not the 
Christian confidently say: "All things are mine; for 
Christ is mine, and I am joint heir with him. His Father 
is my Father, his God is my God, his heaven is my heaven, 
his earth is my earth — all that he has is mine, so far as I 
am able to appropriate it ; mftie as much as my life, my 
soul, my hands, my eyes, or my entire self are mine; 
mine by right, for he gave this right." It is written, 
" Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may 
have right to the tree of life.". 

Now let us get back again to the concrete. When the 
returning prodigal came back in his wretchedness and rags, 
he was poor indeed. All that he could call his own was 
his sin, with its miserable consequences. " Father, I have 
sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more 
worthy to be called thy son," was his humble confession. 
He had it in his heart to ask only a servant's place, and he 
would have done so had not the abounding grace of his 
father stopped him. He ran to meet him, and to embrace 
and kiss him. To have talked after that of being made a 
hired servant would have been an offense and an outrage. 
He instantly became a beloved child, and he knew it. 
"Bring forth," said the generous father, 'the best robe 
and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and shoes 



"ALL THINGS ARE YOURS." 339 

on his feet, and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it, and 
let us eat and be merry ; for this my son was dead, and is 
alive again, he was lost and is found." Wearing that best 
robe and that ring, the token at once of pardon, of honor 
and of sonship, and those shoes, the evidence of his now 
exalted rank, he would enter the banqueting hall with a 
heart full of joy and gratitude ; and that joy and thankful- 
ness would make him the gladdest, the brightest, and the 
pleasantest member of the festive party, and in no way 
could he so much honor and gratify his father as by be- 
ing so. 

But suppose this pardoned and honored son had, through 
a morbid view of his father's goodness, and through a false 
and spurious humility, crept into some shady corner of the 
festive hall, divested himself of his beautiful garment, and 
again put on his old rags, took the ring off his hand and 
the shoes off his feet, and then, from that dark and distant 
place, had raised once more his old mournful cry, " Father, 
I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no 
more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy 
hired servants," would he not have acted as many Chris- 
tians do ? Not worthy to be called thy son ! To be sure 
he was not; but who had talked about worthiness? Did 
the father contradict the assertion of his erring boy ? By 
no means; but he pardoned him and restored him to a 
place in his heart, his family, and his estate, notwithstand- 
ing his unworthiness ; and, having done so, that son could 
have offered no greater insult to that good father than to 
have kept on whining about his unworthiness. But he did 
not do that. He put on his beautiful garment, wore it, and 
was glad. He wore his shoes while walking in paths of 
duty and new obedience ; and in the light of his reconciled 
father's countenance he rejoiced all the day long. He 
honored his father by living up to his privileges ; and how 



34° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

easy it is to feel that he would have grieved and offended 
him by doing otherwise ! 

But until that wanderer returned and received the par- 
doning kiss and that best robe, it would have been pre- 
sumption on his part to have claimed the rights, the privi- 
leges and the honors of a son. How is it with you, dear 
reader ? Are you sure that you have returned, that the seal 
of pardon represented by that ring is upon you, and that the 
best robe, the perfect righteousness of Christ, covers you? 
Is your father's kiss still warm upon your cheek? If so, 
fear not to rejoice with exceeding joy, and take as your 
own all things, for all things are yours. But if not, then 
you are where the prodigal was in that far country. Do as 
he did — arise and go to your Father. He will meet you 
and receive you as the prodigal was received. Thousands 
and millions have met the same reception, and so will you. 
Go, and all will be yours. Refuse, and nothing is yours 
but a heritage of wrath and fiery indignation. Arise and 
go to your Father, and then your greatest wonder will be, 
that you had not gone long ago. Then, and not till then, 
will you understand what the apostle meant when he said, 
"All things are yours.' ' 



WM wit! 1* tto witfc mm? 

" Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his 
people from their sins," said Gabriel to Joseph, when he 
announced to him the great fact that his betrothed wife was 
to be the mother of the Messiah by miraculous conception. 

Our first business is to notice the limitations of this salva- 
tion. 

He did not say that he should save all sinners, but only 



WHAT WILL HE DO WITH THEM? 34I 

"his people.' ' Who are they? What are the marks by 
which we can know them from other people? To this 
question God in his word is alone competent to speak. 

Let the Saviour himself speak first : "As Moses lifted up 
the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man 
be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have eternal life." Here salvation is plainly 
limited to believers; and the inference is irresistible that all 
who do not believe in him perish, as the entire race must 
have done had he not interposed. But we find no other 
limitation in this text ; for that grand and all-comprehend- 
ing word, " whosoever/ ' embraces every condition and 
every possible grade of intellectual and moral character, 
and agrees with that glorious proclamation of grace which 
we find in the last chapter of the inspired volume : "And 
the Spirit and the Bride say, Come; and let him that heareth 
say, Come; and let him that is athirst come; and whosoever 
will, let him take the water of life freely." This again agrees 
with the proclamation with which the 55 th chapter of Isaiah 
opens: "Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the 
waters." 

Again Jesus says, "Hint that cometh unto me I will in no 
wise cast out." Here the universality of the offer is the 
same, and the limitation the same ; for the inference is as 
strong and clear as if it were declared in the most emphatic 
terms, that whosoever will not come shall be cast out ; or, as 
it is expressed in another place, "is condemned already." 
In another place the Saviour complains, " ye will not come 
unto me that ye might have life;" and with flowing tears 
he said: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the 
prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how 
often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a 
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would 
not /" How beautifully does this affecting apostrophe har- 

29* 



342 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

monize with God's mournful language in the first chapter of 
Isaiah: "Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the 
Lord hath spoken : I have nourished and brought up children, 
and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his 
owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth not 
know, my people do not consider ! :) 

These few solemn declarations, with many others which 
harmonize with them, teach us that in order to be saved the 
sinner must be willing to be saved, and come to Christ for 
salvation — to Christ as he is offered in the gospel. They 
teach us, moreover, that it has pleased God to give to every 
soul who hears the gospel the fearful power to accept or re- 
ject the offer of salvation as he pleases. The Holy Spirit, 
in his operations upon the human soul, is a persuasive, not 
a constraining power. He calls, he stretches forth his hands, 
he reasons, he entreats ; but sinners may set at naught all 
his counsels and refuse. They have refused, they are re- 
fusing in countless numbers this day, as they did in the days 
of old. 

Is it so, that men and women, capable of thinking and of 
reasoning correctly on most things, are not willing to be 
saved — men and women who believe in a future existence, 
and in a heaven and a hell? Not at all ; but they are un- 
willing to be saved in the way in which Jesus saves. He saves 
his people from their sins ; while those unwilling ones only 
desire and hope to be saved from hell, and taken after death 
to some happy place known by the term heaven. Jesus did 
not come into the world to save his people from' perdition 
so much as from sin. His object is to make them holy by 
a union with himself, having given his life as a ransom for 
them, and washed away their sins in his atoning blood. 
Their desire is to be happy, and to escape punishment. 
God in his word tells us that it is impossihle for us to be 
happy while sinful; and as plainly does he assure us that it 



WHAT WILL HE DO WITH THEM? 343 

transcends even his power to make us holy without our con- 
sent. This great law, with which it has pleased him to bind 
both himself and us, ought to be kept ever before us. 

"Without holiness no man can see the Lord ;" and as the 
absence of holiness, which is sin, debars men from the pre- 
sence of their Maker, the question is narrowed down to this 
simple, yet awful one : What will he do with them ? As 
they refuse to come to him in the only way in* which it is 
possible for them to come — a way which infinite wisdom de- 
vised and infinite goodness and mercy opened up, at the 
cost of the blood of the Son of God — what can he do with 
them ? To take them to a holy heaven, where the key-note 
of all the rapturous anthems is the atoning death of Christ— 
"Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy 
blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and 
nation" — would be worse than any other condition in which 
they could be placed. The undying worm would gnaw 
more fiercely in heaven than in hell. Were heaven's por- 
tals thrown open to them they would not, they could not, 
enter. Those gates are open to them now, through Christ. 
God is calling earnestly and beseechingly to them to enter 
and have eternal life; but the time is at hand when those 
calls will cease and those doors be shut. What will God do 
with them then ? He will leave them out. Jesus speaks of 
this under the tremendous figure, if figure it is, of " outer 
darkness.' ' To be removed from earth, and left out of 
heaven, is hell ; for sin adheres and grows, sinking the soul 
deeper and deeper in pollution and wretchedness. This is 
the worm that dieth not, the fire that is never quenched. 

Think what salvation is. It is not a restoration to some 
degree of holiness, but to perfect holiness. It is more than 
a creature's holiness — more than could result from a life en- 
tirely blameless — more than Adam enjoyed before the fall — 
more than that which gives glory to the angelic host ; for 



344 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the blood of Christ cleanseth from #//sin, absolutely all. But 
that is only the negative side of salvation. The crowning 
glory of salvation is vital union with Christ, oneness with 
him, so that his righteousness becomes the righteousness of 
the perfected saint. The redeemed soul is as pure as his Re- 
deemer, for they are one. He saves his people from their 
sins, not partially, but wholly ; and because he- lives, they 
live. Their " life is hid with Christ in God. ,, 

To be saved we must come to Christ, renouncing all 
claim to merit of our own. Salvation is all of grace. We 
must come, anxious rather to be saved from sin than from its 
punishment. Our desire must be for holiness more than for 
happiness. But when we can so feel, the truth becomes 
clear to our minds that holiness and bliss are inseparable ; 
and when that point is reached, the converse of the prop- 
osition is seen with equal clearness, that sin and misery are 
inseparable. The great difficulty is that in the unrenewed 
heart the notion is entertained that Christ's yoke is a yoke 
of bondage; hence sin is cherished as a condition of greater 
freedom, and as conducive to happiness. 

But the question recurs respecting those who will not go 
to Christ that they may have life, what will he, what can he, 
as their final Judge, do with them ? As immortal beings 
they cannot cease to exist. The sinful nature, which they 
would not permit the great Redeemer to cleanse, will adhere 
to them for ever; and even that good which they seemed to 
have will be taken from them. So, in the awful language 
of God himself, shall " the wicked be driven away in his 
wickedness/' carrying with him the undying worm, the un- 
quenchable fire, and all the tremendous elements of dam- 
nation, no matter by what imagery they may be set forth; 
and, worse than all, these elements inherent in himself — 
earth-born — inseparable from his nature. 

Oh ! that those who neglect this great salvation would 



SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 345 

remember, that with all their real or imaginary good qual- 
ities, they must meet this awful doom, unless they flee for 
refuge to the hope set before them in the gospel; for it is writ- 
ten, " There is none other name under heaven given among 
men whereby we must be saved." 



Suppose we inquire how some man of our acquaintance 
has succeeded in a new and distant locality, beyond the range 
of our own observation, and the answer comes in brief and 
general terms, "Very well," what do we understand by it? 
Why, simply, that he is prospering in his worldly affairs. To 
this state of things, and to this alone, we give the name of 
success. Or should the reply be, "He is not doing very 
well — he is poor, and finds it difficult to make both ends 
meet," — we call that failure. In worldly goods the one is 
well off, the other is not; and, in the low channel in which 
men's minds habitually run, these opposite conditions of 
wealth and poverty settle the whole question of success or 
failure. 

Viewed from that standpoint, the greatest, the grandest, 
the most beneficent life this world ever saw, was a disastrous 
failure. Foxes had holes, and birds of the air had nests, 
but He who lived that life had not where to lay his head ; 
and his short and troubled career of privation and sorrow, 
of toil, conflict and reproach, closed in an ignominious and 
agonizing death. No greater failure — if estimated in ac- 
cordance with the usual standard of success and failure — 
ever happened among men. 

But all who know anything about him — saint and sage, 
those who see in him only the purest and wisest of men, and 



3 4^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

those who look higher, and discern in the Man of sorrows 
the grandeur of Deity — know that that life was not only not 
a failure, but an infinite success. The whole world, with all 
its wealth and power, and pomp and pretensions, was 
utterly and absolutely bankrupt ; but he redeemed it, and 
out of his unlimited stores he has made many rich — not with 
perishable wealth, but the true riches — treasures in heaven, 
where neither moth nor rust corrupt, nor thieves break 
through and steal. 

But suppose some being whose eye embraced the life and 
experience of all the race, yet whose ideas rose not beyond 
the material and the present, had been called upon at the 
time to give us his report of the lives of Jesus of Nazareth 
and his immediate followers, he could not have done other- 
wise than say that they were all failures. He would have 
seen lives of suffering from poverty, from painful and toil- 
some wanderings, from opposition and bitter persecution, 
and ending in violent deaths. What could he say, from his 
point of observation, but that they were of all men most 
miserable ? 

Now it is true that people of enlightened views, especially 
professed Christians, do not so judge of Jesus, and Peter, 
and John, and Paul, and their companions; but they do 
judge their fellows of their own generation by just such a 
standard as that supposed. By almost universal consent — 
thoughtlessly, to be sure, but rank with infidelity — we think 
of the men who amass wealth as successful, and of those who 
are poor as having failed in their lives. Their character as 
Christians — whether they have treasure in heaven or not — 
is not taken into consideration. As if to correct this injuri- 
ous habit of thought, James asks, "Hath not God chosen 
the poor of this world, rich in faith ?" 

Who fails in life ? Clearly he who, whatever may be his 
success in amassing wealth, loses his own soul. Whose life 



SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 347 

is a success? He who, however destitute he may be of 
worldly goods, lays hold of the hope set before him in the 
Gospel, and thus secures to himself eternal life. The life of 
the rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen, and 
fared sumptuously every day, of whom Jesus tells us, was a 
most disastrous failure • while that of the very poor man 
who lay at his gate was a grand success. He, in all his 
poverty, had the pearl of great price. The other had it 
not, because he neither desired it nor sought it. 

" He builds too low who builds beneath the skies," 

is a truth which harmonizes perfectly with these solemn 
words of our Lord: "Lay- not up for yourselves treasures 
upon earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and where thieves 
break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures 
in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and 
where thieves do not break through nor steal ; for where 
your treasure is there will. your heart be also.'' 

Here the last clause is a key to the true meaning of the 
entire precept ; for it is where the heart is that fixes the 
place of our treasure. One man may possess much of the 
wealth of this world, and yet have his treasure and his heart 
in heaven. Another may have but very little, and yet that 
little so engross his heart as to leave no room for what our 
Saviour calls the true riches. 

To make the acquisition of wealth the great object, the 
chief end, of life, however successful the man may be, is to 
fail, — fatally, miserably, disastrously — to fail as the rich 
man failed, who died, was buried, and then opened his eyes 
in hell. But, on the other hand, to have a part in the in- 
heritance which Christ offers to all who will accept of it — 
no matter how poor and destitute they may be in other 
things — makes life a great success. Life to such men is an 
inestimable boon. 



34 8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



While yet a boy I was present in a room while a vener- 
able and highly gifted divine, Rev. Joseph W. Henderson, 
led a little company in prayer. We stood. My eyes were 
fixed upon the solemn and expressive face of the white- 
haired man as he led us into that awful presence. With a 
voice slow, tremulous, and profoundly reverent, he began 
with these words : "Infinitely great, incomprehensible God." 
Of the remainder of his prayer I have no distinct remem- 
brance ; but these words were engraved upon my memory 
and heart, and lifted me to a higher plane of thought than 
I had then reached, and they have been an anchor to the 
soul through sixty stormy years. While. I have been en- 
abled by grace to grasp this Being as my Father in heaven, 
they have kept me from bringing him down in conception 
to such a level as the consciousness of such a relation is only 
too apt to beget. At once he became the nearest and dear- 
est of Beings, and yet the infinitely great, incomprehensible 
God. 

Although " the heavens declare the glory of God, and 
the firmament showeth his handiwork,' 7 yet God himself is 
beyond the reach of the profoundest science. This handi- 
work is what we call Nature; but the Worker, the great 
Intelligence which guides that working hand, is infinitely 
above the range of our investigation. The sublime chal- 
lenge of the inspired volume, "Canst thou by searching find 
out God?" remains just where it did in the days of Job, and 
will bid defiance to mere thought and research to the end 
of time. 

The familiar apothegm, u the stream cannot rise higher 
than the fountain," applies here with great force, and com- 
pels us to look higher than to mere matter for a solution o; 



THE NATURAL AND THE SUPERNATURAL. 349 

the problem as to how the things with which science can 
deal arrived at the condition in which we find them. That 
they have been moving through periods of incalculable du- 
ration from lower to higher, from simpler to more complex, 
is a fact so manifest, that theists and atheists alike accept it. 
This progress, and the order and beauty seen both in the 
orbs of heaven and in the minuter things of earth, proclaim 
with an eloquence perfectly irresistible that there was and is 
a design. But to talk ot a design without an intelligent 
Designer is as absurd as to talk of an effect without a cause. 
It matters not what process the Designer saw proper to em- 
ploy in the production of the things of which science is able 
to take cognizance. It matters not what laws he saw proper 
to establish and maintain in ever-during activity; these laws 
are but the expression of his will. At what period these 
laws began to operate we know not, for very likely we 
should be unable to comprehend the matter even were it 
revealed to us. One thing we can do, so far as this planet 
which we occupy is concerned, and that is, that we can trace 
back, very dimly, it is true, over a few of those stupendous 
ages, and see a little of the progress of Nature from simpler 
to more complex organisms both vegetable and animal. We 
can see a little of that upward progress to which there will 
probably be no end ; and we can see, if we permit Christian 
faith to come in where reason and science are obliged to 
stop, the infinitely great, incomprehensible God putting 
himself into personal relation with the only being in this 
world of ours capable of bearing such a relation — a relation 
analogous to that between the sun and the living organisms 
which we see all around us. When we speak of this last 
and highest relation between the Creator and the creature, 
we do not pass from the natural to the supernatural ; we 
only pass from the domain of the visible and tangible to that 
which lies above and beyond the field of scientific investiga- 

3° 



35° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH, 

tion. The one is as natural as the other. The only diffi- 
culty is, that the field in which demonstrative science can 
operate at all is exceedingly limited when compared with 
the unfathomable ocean of truth which lies beyond it. We 
would not undervalue the knowledge sought out by these 
searchers after truth in Nature. That a being whose active 
existence is limited to half a century should be able to 
achieve so much is a greater marvel than all the things 
which he reports from the stellar .regions, from the geologic 
periods, and from the multitudinous existences now passing 
before our eyes in ceaseless procession. 

But the great trouble with many of the votaries of science 
is in the very first step in the process of forming a notion 
of God. We know that he is incomprehensible, and that 
he is infinitely great. But these men speak of the Almighty, 
when they speak of him at all, as a being who has a past, a 
present, and a future as we have ; and that in an age long 
past he impressed upon inorganic matter certain laws so per- 
fect and so energetic that all the sequences we now find 
resulted without any further supervision on his part. Such 
a notion necessarily pre-supposes that God has a past — that 
he acted once, but is inactive now; and whether he will ever 
act again in the boundless future is a problem in the domain 
of the unknown. 

Difficult as it is for beings like us to conceive it, we know 
that with God there can be no such thing as progress either 
in space or duration. With him there is necessarily no past, 
no future, no here, no there. This is as sound in philoso- 
phy as it is in revealed theology. The Bible speaks of him 
as inhabiting eternity — filling it at once and always ; and 
the Psalmist exclaims : "Whither shall I flee from thy pres- 
ence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I 
make my bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the 
wings of the morning and dwell in the uttenmost parts of the 



THE NATURAL AND THE SUPERNATURAL. 351 

sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand 
shall hold me !" Human thought and language can go no 
farther. "In him we live and move and have our being," 
said Paul to the learned men of Athens, who, like some of 
our scientists, were puzzling their brains about "the un- 
known God." 

It is one thing to make an ideal Deity and set him away 
up on some imaginary throne above the stars ; but it is a 
far pleasant er, safer and more rational thing to recognize 
him as in every place, giving energy to his own laws, feed- 
ing the fowls of the air, clothing the vegetable kingdom in 
glory and beauty, and saying to the poor who believe in 
him, "Your Father knoweth that ye have need of these 
things." 

Is it not an error to set up a boundary between the 
things which men can touch and handle, or observe with the 
telescope and microscope, or analyze chemically, and those 
other things which cannot be thus investigated, and assign 
the first to the domain of the natural, and the other to that 
of the supernatural ? Is it not putting asunder things which 
God has joined together ? Is it not thrusting the Creator out 
of his own creation, and giving to blind impersonal forces the 
place in the government of the universe which he claims for 
himself? A sparrow, says the great Teacher, cannot fall 
without your Father ; and could we get rid of this miserable 
notion of a local and progressive God, the soundest reason 
would tell us that this must be so; and it would tell us, 
moreover, that in the far-gone geologic periods God was 
working for man as immediately, in laying up vast stores of 
metals and fuel, and in pulverizing a soil for his use, as he 
is this day in giving us rain and fruitful seasons. 

Let us not undertake to draw a line of separation between 
the natural and the supernatural. Jesus forbids any such 
division of the works of creation and providence where he 



35^ 



GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



points to the lily and tells us that God so clothes it, and to 
the fowls of the air and says, " Your Heavenly Father feed- 
eth them." Here the extremes of what scientists call the 
natural and the supernatural are joined together by the only 
being that ever wore the human form who perfectly under- 
stood both. In view of these things let his solemn interdict, 
uttered on another occasion, sink deeply into our hearts: 
" What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.' ? 



" Some people say there is no devil," was the abrupt ut- 
terance of Dr. Lyman Beecher, in opening one of his week- 
day evening lectures in his church in Boston ; and it is true 
that there are many who truly and sincerely receive the 
Bible as the word of God, who have doubts as to the person- 
ality of the devil. They regard what is said of him in the 
Scriptures somewhat as they do some of the characters in 
Bunyan's great allegory — as principles personified — such, 
for example, as Giant Despair, the representative of one 
form of unbelief, or of Avarice, personified in Demas at his 
silver mine. 

But the teachings of the inspired volume on this subject, 
taken throughout, will not, I think, warrant us in coming to 
any such conclusion. They speak too plainly of this evil 
spirit as a real personage to admit of the idea that it is but 
an allegorical setting forth of some all-pervading p;uiciple 
of evil and antagonism, whether within or without the 
heart of man. 

If this being or thing which we call Satan be but an im- 
personal principle, whence came it? It were impious to 
hold that it is self-existent ; and if it be impersonal, then is 



THE PERSONALITY OF SATAN. 353 

it irresponsible, and the responsibility of its existence rolls 
back upon the infinitely holy Author of all things. But if, 
on the other hand, Satan was originally an angel or arch- 
angel, created upright and pure, but free, and who subse- 
quently rebelled and became the enemy of God, as the 
Bible plainly teaches when we take it in its simple verity, 
and do not strain it with our transcendentalism and meta- 
physical interpretations, then the responsibility rests else- 
where, and the throne of the Most High is stainless. If it 
was God's pleasure to make the angels of heaven, as he 
made man in Eden, upright, yet free — free to stand or fall, 
free to obey or disobey, free to render to their Maker the 
homage and service which were his due, or to withhold 
them — and there could have been no real integrity, nor up- 
rightness, nor homage, nor obedience, without freedom 
— then the solution of the question of the origin of evil 
and the existence of an active malignant spirit becomes 
easy, and is at once consistent with the highest reason and 
with the teachings of the word of God. Sin sprung out 
of the freedom of rational moral beings; not necessarily it 
is true, but it did. Had it necessarily done so, then were 
the creature or creatures with whom it originated not free. 
That God permitted it, we know from the event. Why he 
did so, is a question too deep for us. Of one thing, how- 
ever, we may be sure., and \ that is, that it was better that he 
should permit it. Infinite goodness, wisdom and power 
will always do that which is best. God makes no mis- 
takes. 

Satan, then — we say nothing at present about his angels, 
as Jesus calls them, or his associates in rebellion and his 
subordinates, as we cannot but regard them — is a powerful, 
personal, intelligent, responsible and active being, whose 
energies are all set in direct antagonism to that Supreme 
Being against whom he rebelled, and with whom he has 

30* 



354 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

neither the power nor the desire to be reconciled. In his 
character and aims he is as far the opposite of the supremely 
good God as it is possible for the finite to be opposite to the 
Infinite. Shut up in absolute despair, the depth and dark- 
ness of which no finite being can understand as he does, 
he is miserable to desperation and madness, and recklessly 
drags down upon himself mountains of guilt by the perpe- 
tration of all the evil of which he is capable. "Evil, be 
thou my good!" are the words which Milton puts into his 
mouth while in a paroxysm of remorse and anguish ; and 
they well express the hideous thought, the dreadful purpose, 
born of despair. 

Paul calls the wicked one "the prince of the power of 
the air, the spirit which worketh in the children of disobe- 
dience," and in another place, "the god of this world/ 7 
all of which are expressive of great and extensive power. 
But God holds him in check. When he accused Job of 
hypocrisy, his object was to obtain permission to plague 
and afflict him, and if possible, to destroy him ; and he 
was permitted to go to a certain length, but no farther. 
He went as near destroying him as he could ; but " hither- 
to shalt thou go, but no farther,' ' was the law to which he 
was obliged to submit on that occasion : and that much 
God overruled to his own glory, to the gt)od of Job, and to 
the profit of his people of all" ages. Earth has more light, 
and heaven brighter glory, because of that malignant as- 
sault upon the man of Uz. 

Satan acts his part according to the dictates of his own 
malignant nature. No restraint seems to be put upon the 
freedom of his will, although there is upon the extent to 
which he carries out his designs. He is permitted to work 
in the hearts of the children of disobedience, and, with 
their concurrence, lead them captive at his will. He is al- 
lowed to assault God's own children, as he did Job, and as 



THE PERSONALITY OF SATAN. 355 

he desired to have Peter that he might sift him as wheat. 
Yet over men he has no power without their consent. He 
can entice them to sin, but that is all. Eve said, " The 
serpent beguiled me, and I did eat;" but her plea did not 
avail. Satan entered into the heart of Judas just before he 
went out to sell and betray his Master ; but he did so only 
because Judas had thrust Jesus out and left the door open 
to him. ^ 

' The extent and the limitations of the power and range of 
Satan are subjects as instructive as they are curious. When 
Moses and Aaron went before Pharaoh to demand the re- 
lease of the Israelitish bondmen, they showed a sign by 
casting down a rod which instantly became a serpent. But 
the wise men and sorcerers of Egypt did the same thing, 
whether by infernal agency or jugglery, it matters not. 
Their sign was antagonistic to the other and broke its force, 
until Aaron's serpent devoured theirs. The same thing 
happened in one or two further signs on that occasion; but 
when the more tremendous plagues came, Satan and his 
ministers were powerless. 

Then again, in the days of our Saviour, when God in 
very deed dwelt with man — when the Son of God came, 
(to use the language of the book of Job but slightly varied,) 
Satan came also. He was permitted by his subordinate evil 
spirits to take possession of the persons of many people, 
dominating their mental powers, and using their bodies to 
torment themselves and their friends. Nowhere else in all 
the Scriptures do we find such accounts of diabolic power 
as are given by the evangelists. It won't do to say that 
these demoniacal possessions were some peculiar form of 
mania, mere derangement of the mental powers ; for Jesus 
invariably addressed the in-dwelling demon or demons as 
evil spirits, personal and conscious, and distinct from the 
persons possessed. 



35 6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

But now, since Christ has withdrawn not only his person 
but his miraculous power from the earth, he has taken from 
the devil and his angels the power which they then had. 
All their power over the minds and bodies of men, such as 
they seem to have exerted in the days when the Son of God 
was a man amongst men, and himself exposed to his as- 
saults, has been taken away or restrained. But mark : Je- 
sus, just before he offered his own great sacrifice, and 
then ascended to his throne in heaven, promised to send 
the Holy Spirit to abide with his people for ever, and to 
convince the world of sin, of righteousness, and of a 
judgment to come. That state of things continues, and 
will to the end of time ; while at the same time Satan is 
permitted to exert his baleful influences in a similar way 
upon the hearts of men, in direct antagonism to those of 
the Holy Spirit. Thus it would seem that when God comes 
near by miracle, and nearer still by incarnation, Satan is 
allowed to come equally near; but when these cease, he is 
kept back, and permitted to do nothing more than to exert 
a bad influence upon the hearts of the children of men. 

Antagonism is essential to development in all things, 
whether material or moral, in nature and in grace ; and we 
may be perfectly sure that that great but wicked being of 
whom we have been speaking is and ever will be so re- 
strained, so governed, and so overruled, that what he 
designs for evil to the church and people of God shall be 
made to work for the furtherance of the Gospel, for the 
everlasting good of God's children, and for the glory of 
Him who " came to destroy the works of the devil.' ' 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 357 



We are apt to think of this wretched man as the worst 
who ever lived. It may be that he was ; or possibly there 
may have been, or there may be now, or in the centuries yet 
to come, men more wicked than he ; although none ever did 
or ever can sin just as he did. 

Of the call of Judas as one of the chosen twelve we know 
nothing ; but that he was called we do know, for Jesus him- 
self said, " Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you 
is a devil?" This shows us that the Lord knew Judas when 
he called him— what he was and what he would do. 

But if Judas was a bad man, a devil, why did he obey the 
call ? for certainly he was not forced. Doubtless he was a 
deep, shrewd, intelligent, calculating man, one who was able 
to reason clearly, and, on his low plane, accurately. He saw 
the mighty power of Jesus of Nazareth, and under the deep 
disguise of his humility and poverty he discovered the long 
expected Messiah. So far he reasoned correctly. He doubted 
not that in due time Jesus would ascend the throne of his 
father David, restore the kingdom to Israel, break the Roman 
yoke, and lift himself to universal dominion. The greatest 
and grandest of earthly potentates was his ideal of the Mes- 
siah \ and in this notion he did not differ much from his 
fellow disciples. His selfish and ambitious soul would be 
filled with visions of the dignity, wealth and grandeur which 
was sure to be his own portion in that magnificent coming 
kingdom. With such notions, it is very likely that not one 
of the twelve obeyed the call more gladly than he. 

But month after month the Master itinerated over the land, 
in humility and poverty, teaching, healing, blessing, and 
putting forth almighty power over Nature, over men and evil 



35 8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

spirits; even calling the dead to life; and talking every day 
of that kingdom of which he was the unquestionable head. 
But never for a moment did he cast his eye towards a visible 
throne, or lift a hand against the outside oppressors of his 
country. The ruling classes with almost entire unanimity 
arrayed themselves against him ; but Jesus continued his 
work apparently regardless of their enmity and opposition. 

Judas could not understand it. Hope deferred made his 
heart sick. Disappointed ambition soured him. But he seems 
to have kept his thoughts to himself, and he was not distrusted 
by his fellow disciples. He was their treasurer or purse 
bearer, which showed that he was regarded as the best busi- 
ness man among them, and that he was trusted. The seeds 
of disaffection towards his Master, sown there by the evil 
one, germinated and grew. His low, sordid nature began 
to rise in disgust and rebellion against this strange Being 
who manifestly possessed almighty power, yet year after year 
refused to put it forth to lift himself, his followers and his 
country to honor, power and dignity. Pride of heart and 
greed of gain had taken such full possession of his soul, that 
the heavenly truths uttered in his hearing made no impres- 
sion upon him. 

He finally concluded that he had made a mistake ; for it 
had become more and more plain that Jesus had no inten- 
tion of setting up a visible kingdom — that he was not a 
politician at all; while Judas was nothing else. He discov- 
ered that he and his Master had no aims in common. Then 
he began to plan how he could get out of his false position 
as easily and as profitably as possible ; and full of this thought 
he went to the chief priests and captains and covenanted 
with them to betray him for thirty pieces of silver. Doubt- 
less he made the best bargain he could. The act, of course, 
would sever his connection with Christ, as he intended that 
it should. That he thought it would lead to the terrible 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 359 

tragedy which followed the betrayal is not at all probable. 
Although he knew nothing of the grace of Christ, or of the 
spiritual nature of his kingdom, and cared not to know, he 
had full confidence in his power. But as soon as he saw 
that that power was not put forth to deliver him from death, 
but that he was condemned, and would certainly be executed, 
he was so filled with remorse and horror that he returned to 
the men who had bribed him, confessed his guilt, testified to 
the innocence of his victim, cast down the money, rushed 
out, hanged himself, and " went to his own place." 

What a fearful warning is here to any who may enter 
Christ's service through the base and sordid motives which 
actuated Judas— ambition, personal distinction, hope of 
gain, or power, or ease, or anything else which terminates 
in self. Had Jesus been what Judas supposed he was, his 
ambition would have passed in the world without blame or 
dishonor. He would have simply been one among many 
thousands of fortunate politicians. 

But why did Christ choose this devil ? for certainly he 
was not deceived in him. All we can say is, that so it 
seemed good in his sight. Judas had his mission. He did 
his work, and he found his reward. He acted freely in what 
he did. He had abundant opportunity to learn his mistake ; 
but he would not. He became a soured and disappointed 
man, and ended his miserable earthly career in black despair. 
We cannot measure his guilt; but we know that he who could 
measure it said of him, " It had been good for that man if 
he had not been born !" And the same may be said of every 
man who prostitutes a holy calling to selfish and worldly 
ends. 



$6 3 GATHERINGS IN BEULAKL 



The great adversary of God and man is limited in his 
powers; and all his knowledge, like ours, comes, primarily, 
through the medium of observation. As God gradually en- 
lightend the human race with a revelation of himself, Satan 
followed along his track. As the great system of Truth, as 
disclosed in the sacred records, was evolved, Satan worked 
out his own dark systems on the same model. An illustra- 
tion of this fact is found in the incident of the magicians of 
Egypt imitating the miracle of Aaron's rod when it became 
a serpent. 

But the most striking example of this imitative work of 
Satan is found in the system of Brahminical theology as set 
forth in the Vedas, which are the sacred writings of the 
Hindoos. The Shasters are but a set of rules of worship 
and conduct. 

The Brahm, or Brahma, of the Vedas corresponds with 
the Jehovah of the Hebrew Scriptures ; but so awfully high 
and exalted, so remote, so abstract and cold, so utterly un- 
knowable, that the book speaks of him by a term which, in 
the English language, can only be rendered into the most 
indefinite of all words — "THAT." Correctly enough lie is 
represented as infinite, eternal and incomprehensible ; but, 
unlike our God, our "Father in Heaven, " he is also unap- 
proachable. Although the Creator of all things, he is 
represented as too exalted to take any interest in the affairs 
of his creatures. In a word, the great God of the Vedas is 
a being who cannot be loved, and need not be feared. To 
him some of the characteristics of the Lord God of the 
Hebrew Scriptures have been transferred with almost per- 
fect fidelity and undiminished grandeur. ■ Still he is but an 






THE TRUE AND THE FALSE. 361 

awful abstraction, a being with whom man can have no 
intercourse, and to whom he can bear no relations. The 
idea of God, as there found, is only a cold abstraction, 
which cannot be known or loved, having in it neither light 
nor life, exciting neither faith nor hope. It is merely 
"That/' — a something enshrouded in darkness inaccessible 
and impenetrable. 

So much for the absolute God of the Vedas. But the 
theology of the Hindoos is not unitarian. The system rests 
upon a kind of trinity, Vishnu, the Preserver, and Siva, the 
Destroyer, corresponding to our Saviour, and to our great 
adversary, the devil. These antagonistic deities rule the 
world which Brahma created. Vishnu, who is supposed to 
be ever inclined to be propitious, has few temples, and is 
but little worshiped ; while Siva, whose wrath is dreaded, is 
propitiated by perpetual, painful and costly offerings. 

Thus the two great religious systems of the world — each 
possessing hundreds of millions of devotees — the one the 
dark shadow of the other — nearly the same in the outline 2 
yet as different as light is from darkness, or life from death, 
or Heaven from hell, — seem to have grown up side by side. 
But in the one inspired by the spirit that worketh in the 
children of disobedience, its author has thrust out the Spirit 
of all truth, and thrust himself into his place in the trinity. 
Brahma, in his infinite and sublime attributes, corresponds 
with some degree of fidelity to the first person in the true 
Godhead. Vishnu, the Preserver, the friend of man, cor- 
responds, as far as the system goes, with our blessed Redeemer. 
But the third, the Destroyer, is a horrible departure from 
the Christian idea of the Triune God, and renders the whole 
system absolutely false and diabolical. And the obscene 
worship, the horrid rites, the deep social degradation and 
depravity of its devotees, and the absence of all progress, 
whether material, social, political or religious, attest the 



3^2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

source whence the system sprung. It bears the signet of 
the devil, as distinctly as the religion of the Bible bears that 
of the God of truth. By their fruits they are known. The 
one is a monstrous imitation, a gross counterfeit, of the other. 
The one is a living, active substance; the other, a dark 
shadow. The one brings poor sinners into the presence of 
a pardoning God, through an atoning Saviour. The other 
leaves them to wander in darkness, and to work out their 
own salvation by self-inflicted tortures, or by sacrificing the 
fruit of their bodies for the sin of their souls. The wretched 
mother casting her offspring into the sacred river ; the tor- 
tured wretch swinging in the air by hooks thrust through 
his ribs, and the frantic worshiper casting himself under 
the ponderous wheels of Juggernaut, mark the lands over 
which this system bears rule as among " the dark places of 
the earth, full of the habitations of cruelty.' ' 



Appended to the Book of Proverbs are two chapters, 
the 30th and 31st. The first of these is composed of the 
words of Agur, the son of Jakeh, the second the prophecy 
which the mother of king Lemuel taught him. Both are 
rich in aphoristic wisdom and exhortation, and are fine ex- 
amples of the sententious teachings of the ancient sages of 
the East. The characteristics of a virtuous woman, as ut- 
tered by an inspired mother, in the closing chapter, are 
surpassingly beautiful, and might be pondered with profit 
by that sex in the present day. 

Agur, in his chapter, sets out with expressions of the pro- 
foundest humility and self-abasement. He looks up to God, 
the high, the holy, the unsearchable, whose every word is 



agur's prayer. 363 

pure, and who is "a shield unto them that put their trust 
in him." He then solemnly protests against adding any- 
thing unto his words, "lest he reprove thee, and thou be 
found a liar." This solemn admonition ought to be kept 
ever in mind by all religious teachers, whether orthodox or 
otherwise, together with the awful warning with which the 
inspired volume closes: "If any man shall add unto these 
things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written 
in this book." 

Agur then turns to God in earnest supplication ; but his 
prayer, in express terms, reaches not beyond the present 
life. Yet he most clearly recognizes him as the Giver of 
everything, down even to the quality of the food we eat. 
Let us hear him pray. 

"Two things have I required of thee ; deny me them not 
before I die." 

The second clause is a strong form of expression that the 
two things for which he asks shall be continued to him all 
the days of his life. We then have his two petitions in the 
briefest terms : 

1. " Remove far from me vanity and lies." 

2. "Give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with 
food convenient for me." 

He then goes on in exceedingly brief but comprehensive 
terms to give his reasons why he prayed thus, saying, "Lest 
I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord ? or lest 
I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain." 

What does Agur mean by vanity and lies, which he desires 
shall be removed far from him ? When the prosperous man 
spoken of by our Lord in one of his parables, whose lands 
brought forth so abundantly that he resolved to build larger 
barns, said, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many 
years, take thine ease, eat, drink and be merry," he was 
hugging to his heart vanity and lies, and for so doing God 



3^4 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

told him that he was a fool. The notion which finds a 
lodgment in so many minds, that the possession of wealth 
will make us happy, is a lie ; and when the object is attained 
it is found to be vanity. The desire of fame and popular 
favor, and the pursuit of these objects, are the opposite of 
Agur's spirit; for they too are vanity and lies. Jesus, in 
words of awful earnestness, warns his people to "take heed 
and beware ^ f covetousness; for a man's life consisteth not 
in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Then 
having spoken the parable of the rich fool just alluded to, 
he added, "So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and 
is not rich toward God." 

Now it is perfectly true that God can, and often does, 
bestow upon men large possessions, with grace sufficient to 
keep their wealth in its proper place in their affections ; 
while covetousness and selfishness of the rankest kind may, 
and often do, find lodgment in the hearts of the poorest. 
Our Divine Teacher does not tell us that he who lays up 
treasure is a fool ; for he may do that, and still be rich to- 
ward God. It is only he who is laying up treasure for him- 
self, and is not rich toward God, that is so denounced. 

But Agur prays that riches may not be given him. He 
knew, for his God had taught him, the danger of wealth ; 
and Jesus teaches us the same thing in these fearful words : 
"Verily I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter 
into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, 
it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, 
than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." 
Still it is possible; for he adds, "with God all things are 
possible." 

This expression of a camel passing through the eye of a 
needle was proverbial, and probably had reference to narrow 
passages through the walls of defensed cities, through which 
a man, unincumbered with a bulky burden, could pass, but 



agur's prayer. 365 

not a camel with its usual cumbrous load. Such openings 
were then popularly called the " needle's eye." This gives 
great force and impressiveness to the proverb ; but to un- 
derstand it as the eye of a needle with which we sew, carries 
it into the domain of the extravagant. So a man, however 
wealthy, under the power of the Holy Spirit, may come to 
this needle's eye as poor in spirit as the poorest, and pass in 
and find mercy. Still Agur prays against riches, and Jesus' 
words show us that he was right. He prays also against 
poverty, and gives weighty reasons for so doing. Poverty 
here means that degree of destitution which debases the soul 
and leads down to the grosser vices, a condition which he 
expresses in this vigorous and concrete phrase : " Lest I be 
poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain." He 
dreaded that degree of fullness which might lead him to deny 
the Author of all his mercies, and to ask, as Pharaoh did, 
"Who is the Lord?" and as much did he deprecate that 
abject poverty which would drive him to profanity toward 
God, and to acts of dishonesty toward men. "Feed me 
with food convenient for me," is his prayer. 

Here is Christ's endorsement of this prayer of his ancient 
and almost unknown servant— this prayer, inspired by his 
own Spirit, and recorded in his own Word, for every one 
of us. 

"Take no thought for your life — (he means anxious, 
distressing, disturbing thought) — what ye shall eat, or what 
ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. 
Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? 
Behold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither do 
they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your Heavenly Father 
feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they ? Which 
of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? 
And why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies 
of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they 

31* 



366 GATHERINGS IN T.KULAH. 

spin, and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory 
was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so 
clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow 
is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, 
O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying,' 
'What shall we eat?' or e What shall we drink?' or 'Where- 
withal shall we be clothed?' for your Heavenly Father know- 
eth that ye have need of all these fellings. But seek ye first 
the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these 
things shall be added unto you." 

The power of human language can go no higtier than 
this, and assurance cannot be made stronger that no one 
who complies with the conditions here expressed can sink to 
abject poverty. His word is sure and abides forever ; for 
he says in another place, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
but my words shall not pass away." They are ever fresh, 
ever new. Although first uttered in the hearing of the people 
who gathered around him on the mount more than eighteen 
hundred years ago, they come to us ki our homes, and amid 
our toils and troubles, just as if he had uttered them for the 
first time. 

In speaking of the birds, the Saviowr says, "They sow 
not, neither do they reap." To do either is beyond their 
power. Still their Maker requires of them to do what 
they can. As the Psalmist beautifully expresses it, " That 
thou givest them they gather." In like manner he requires 
of his children to do what they can. The birds obey him 
cheerfully and without anxiety, and so must we, if we would 
embrace the promise and enjoy the blessing. David, in the 
37th Psalm, bears cheering testimony to the providential 
care and kindness of our Heavenly Father who knoweth 
that we have need of these things. He says, " I have been 
young and now am old, yet have I not seen the righteous 



AGUR'S PRAYER. 3^7 

forsaken nor his seed begging bread.' ' The Bible is full of 
declarations and promises to the same effect. 

So we see that Agur prayed for just what Jesus promised, 
which shows us the wondrous harmony of the inspired Scrip- 
tures. He prayed for things calculated to make him a good 
and happy man. He prayed for that condition best adapted 
to a life of faith and a perpetual trust in God, and one in 
which he could best glorify God in this life, and enjoy him 
forever in a life to come. 

The Bible is rich in expressions of faith and trust in re- 
gard to the commonest things of this life ; and eould people 
only go to God in a simple, child-like confidence for every- 
thing that they really need just at the time — not for a distant 
old age or a possible contingency, but for something needed 
just then — there would be much less anxiety, much less greed 
and covetousness, much less contention about property, 
much less of those things against which Agur prayed — pov- 
erty and riches. More faith about common things would 
cause more contentment, more happiness, more prosperity, 
more brotherly kindness, more charity. It makes us feel 
the fatherhood of God, and leads us up to those higher and 
more blessed hopes which take hold on eternal life and on 
the great atonement. It enables us to toil with cheerfulness, 
to wait with patience, to receive what our Father is pleased 
to give with thankfulness, and to submit to crosses with the 
glad assurance that it is well, and that the Lord chastens us 
because he loves us. 



368 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



grates* 

This purest, wisest, and simplest of the philosophers of 
ancient Greece lived at Athens between four and five hun- 
dred years before the birth of Christ, That city was then 
at the zenith of its intellectual supremacy ; yet its moral 
and political degradation was never greater. The Sophists 
reigned supreme in the domain of philosophy and morals ; 
while, for a time, the thirty tyrants outraged in every possi- 
ble way the rights and liberties of the people. It was at 
this epoch that Socrates appeared as a reformer. 

In person he was extremely uncouth and ungainly. 
Alcibiades compares him to a satvr in his outward appear- 
ance. " But I know not," says he. " if any of you have 
ever seen the divine images which are within, when he 
has been opened and is serious. I have seen them, and 
they are so supremely beautiful, so golden, so divine and 
wonderful, that everything which Socrates commands 
surely ought to be obeyed, even like the voice of a god." 

Socrates founded no school, no system of philosophy. 
He delivered no set discourses, and had, strictly speaking, 
no disciples. He went about the streets, the markets, and 
other places of concourse, and talked with all who would 
listen to him. Rich and poor, single individuals or multi- 
tudes, were treated with equal consideration. His sole ob- 
ject was to guide the minds of his hearers .into truth, and 
to deliver them from the dominion of error both of doc- 
trine and practice. 

In early life he was a soldier, and, as such, none sur- 
passed him in bravery or endurance. He was a senator, 
and alone braved the wrath of the thirty tyrants in a noble 
effort to save the lives of some men unjustly accused, and 



SOCRATES. 369 

only failed because he himself was deposed. He never 
sought wealth or position, but led a humble and frugal life ; 
yet he was by no means an ascetic, much less a stoic. Emi- 
nently urbane, and gifted beyond all men with high social 
qualities, he devoted his powers as a conversationalist to 
the sole purpose of imparting wisdom and leading those 
with whom he held intercourse into the paths of truth and 
virtue, and into a higher and purer religious faith. 

It is not probable that Socrates had any knowledge of the 
teachings of Moses and the prophets; and as he lived sev- 
eral centuries before the incarnation of the Son of God, 
he, of course, had no knowledge of that Greater Light. 
We may ask, therefore, as did the neighbors of our Re- 
deemer, "Whence had this man this wisdom?" It is a 
remarkable fact that Socrates believed himself to be the sub- 
ject of supernatural guidance or instruction. This impression 
has led many learned men into the belief that he supposed 
himself to be accompanied by a demon, or good angel. 
But this is an error ; for Socrates, according to the best 
authorities, did not believe this to be a distinct being, but 
a spiritual " something," a sign, a voice, a divine sign, a di- 
vine voice" "This divine voice," says Mr. Lewes, in his 
Biographical History of Philosophy, " was only an occa- 
sional manifestation, and exercised only a restraining in- 
'fluence. On the great critical occasions of his life, if the 
voice warned him against any step he was about to take, 
he unhesitatingly obeyed it ; but if the voice was unheard, 
he concluded that his proposed step was agreeable to the 
divine will. " This (continues that excellent writer,) is 
his own explicit statement ; and surely in a Christian coun- 
try, abounding in examples of persons believing in direct 
intimations from above, there can be little difficulty in cred- 
iting such a statement. Socrates was a profoundly religious 
man. . . . Unless we conceive him a profoundly re- 



37° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ligious man, we shaft misconceive the whole spirit of his 
life and teaching." 

Socrates, in the midst of polytheism, plainly and dis- 
tinctly avowed his belief in one supreme Deity, the Crea- 
tor and Upholder of all things, and spoke of " those divine 
secrets which may not be penetrated by man, and are im- 
parted to those alone who consult, who adore, who obey 
the Deity. Then shalt thou understand there is a Being 
whose eye pierce th throughout all Nature, and whose ear 
is open to every sound; extended to all places; extending 
through all time ; and whose bounty and care can know 
no other bound than those fixed by his own creation." 
This noble sentiment exactly corresponds with that of the 
Psalmist : " The secret of the Lord is with them that fear 
him." Again he says: u He who raised this whale uni- 
verse, and still upholds the mighty frame ; who perfected 
every part of it in beauty and in goodness ; suffering none 
of those parts to decay through age; but renewing them 
daily with unfading vigor, whereby they are able to execute 
whatever he ordains with that readiness and precision which 
surpass man's imagination; even he, the Supreme God, 
who performeth all these wonders, still holds himself invisi- 
ble ; and it is only in his works that we are capable of ad- 
miring him." Now who shall assert that in this almost 
divine philosophy there is no divine inspiration, or that its 
author was not a true worshiper of God? 

Until the age of forty the character of Socrates was ex- 
tremely dissolute ; but whether his change may be termed 
a conversion, or only a reformation of manners, is a ques- 
tion I shall not undertake to determine. He was what we 
are pleased to call a Heathen ; but he was a sincere lover of, 
and searcher after, Truth. And so was Cornelius. Socrates 
had access to no written revealed truth : Cornelius had 
some. The prayers of Cornelius, while yet unenlightened, 



SOCRATES. 37 * 

came up with acceptance to the throne of God. Dare any 
man assert that the prayers of Socrates were not accepted ? 
Of each it may be said, " He did what he could." 

It might be both interesting and profitable to trace the 
resemblances and the contrasts between Jesus and Socrates. 
Both were teachers of truth. Both instructed the people 
wherever they met them. Both went about doing good; 
and both came, not to be' ministered unto, but to minister. 
Both were meek and lowly in heart; yet both were fearless 
in the utterance of truth, whether men were pleased or 
displeased. Both excited the bitter enmity of those who 
did not love the truth ; and both at length became martyrs 
to the truth they taught. Both were heard gladly by the 
common people ; and both, while they lived, had a few de- 
voted followers. So much for their points of resemblance. 
Now for the contrasts. 

Socrates was a mere philosopher, and he took his place . 
amongst men in the midst of superstition, darkness, error 
and corruption, with no light, no guide, so far as we can see, 
except human reason. He groped in the dark after truth, 
and it came to him, first as conjecture, then as opinion, 
then as conviction; and, considering the circumstances, his 
success was wonderful — so wonderful that many are con- 
strained to believe that God was pleased to give him light 
that he himself knew not of. Jesus, on the other ha*id, 
came from Heaven to earth, not to seek light, but to give 
light. He was the light of the world. He came not to 
find Truth; for he himself was the Truth. Socrates 
reasoned; Jesus did not need to reason. Socrates, by 
laborious mental processes, formed theories, and then ut- 
tered them as opinions ; Jesus never uttered an opinion — 
with him nothing was conjectural. Socrates was among 
the humblest of men, and claimed no superiority over 
others ; for he knew and felt that he was nothing but a weak 



37 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

and sinful man. Jesus boldly claimed equality with God, 
and demanded of men a degree of love and devotion which 
only God can rightfully claim. And finally, "Socrates 
died like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ like a God." As 
far as the Divine rises above the human, so far does Jesus 
rise above Socrates. 



"The fashion of this world passeth away," says the apos- 
tle. Man's works, like himself, are destined to sure, and 
often rapid, decay. We dwell in the midst of a revolution, 
change succeeding change with kaleidoscopic swiftness. 

"My days/' says Job, "are like a weaver's shuttle;" and 
James asks, "What is your life?" and, in answer to his own 
question, says, "It is even a vapor, which continueth for a 
little while and then vanisheth away." And as a man's days 
are, so are his works, so are his earthly possessions, and the 
things on which he has bestowed his utmost wisdom, his 
best skill, and in which he places his greatest confidence. 
When compared with the days of eternity, what is the dif- 
ference between the pyramids of Egypt and Jonah's gourd ? 
Nor was there much difference in the estimate put upon 
them by their several proprietors. 

The gourd perished quickly; but Jonah remains among 
us, a familiar personage, perverse and fretful, it is true, but 
still a true prophet, one of the redeemed, and one in whose 
truly imperishable history God has traced many of the glori- 
ous lineaments of his own character; and shown us how much 
perverseness, selfishness, and even cruelty, may still lurk in 
the bosom of a true believer. The pyramids remain ; but 
where are their builders ? Their inward thought was that 



jonah's gourd. 373 

their works should continue forever and their dwelling-places 
to all generations. They called their lands after their own 
names. But, although their works remain, their history — 
nay, their very names — have perished. And although the 
labors of archaeologists have thrown a little light upon Egyp- 
tian and Assyrian antiquities, it is only sufficient to render 
the darkness visible, the oblivion more appalling. 

Joseph lived in Egypt about the time that the pyramids 
were built ; but he built no pyramids. He did not write his 
name upon marble ; but God stamped upon him the seal of 
immortality by causing Moses to write a few words in a 
book. Joseph still lives in that inspired record. He seems 
to mingle with us at our firesides. We see the anguish of 
his soul when he pleads with his cruel brethren. We follow 
him through his trying fortunes in Potiphar's house and in 
the prison. He stands in our presence before Pharaoh. 
We feel honored in his advancement to honor and power ; 
and when his brethren come, we too, like him, feel as if we 
would fain seek a place to weep; and before the story is 
over, Joseph has ceased to be regarded by us as a great man 
who lived and flourished more than three thousand years 
ago. Our hearts become knit to his heart, and almost un- 
consciously we enroll him among the number of our intimate 
and beloved friends. How flat, cold, perishing, and dead 
are all the records of Thebes, Palmyra, Babylon, Nineveh, 
and Rome, although laboriously sculptured in marble, when 
compared with the records of the pen of inspiration ! Those, 
like thek authors, appear and are admired for a little while, 
and then vanish away ; while these remain in imperishable 
lustre, ever fresh, ever new. 

In the short but impressive history of Jonah there is much 
that, properly considered, comes home with power to our 
own hearts. It is a mirror in which we may see ourselves. 
His reluctance to bear the testimony which God gave him 

3 2 



374 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

to proclaim is well calculated to remind us of our own back- 
wardness to rebuke, exhort, and warn those by whom we 
are surrounded, and who we are persuaded are yet unrecon- 
ciled to God and exposed to his wrath. His unfortunate 
voyage to Tarsus, in direct disobedience to the divine com- 
mand ; the severity of God in sending a tempest to arrest 
his progress, and his wonderful deliverance from death, all 
attest the goodness of our Heavenly Father in his dealings 
with his wayward and disobedient children. Happy are 
they whom the Lord chasteneth, because it is an evidence 
that they are the objects of his love. Even in the belly of 
the fish Jonah experienced this delightful truth ; for after 
he had uttered his complaint and prayer, he exclaims, "I 
will sacrifice unto thee with the voice of thanksgiving ; I 
will pay that which I have vowed. Salvation is of the 
Lord." 

A second time the Lord sends Jonah to Nineveh to de- 
nounce against it the sentence of destruction within forty 
days. This time Jonah went. His prophecy was uttered in 
a few ungracious words; but God accompanied his own 
word with power ; and, contrary to Jonah's expectation 
or wish, the people humbled themselves and repented, and 
God had mercy upon them and spared them and their city. 
"But it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was very 
angry." 

In this bad temper Jonah went out of the cky to a place 
where he supposed he could watch the event in safety, and 
where he could indulge in solitude his chagrin at the failure 
of his prophecy. But, while dwelling in his lonely booth, 
one of those hot, scorching winds, common in the East, 
prevailed, and distressed him greatly. To mitigate his suf- 
ferings, God caused a gourd to spring up in a single night; 
so the next day Jonah reposed with some comfort under the 
refreshing shade of its broad leaves; "and Jonah was ex- 



JONAH'S GOURD. 375 

ceedingly glad of the gourd.' ' He loved his gourd and set 
his heart upon it, just as we set our hearts upon objects 
almost as transient, and perhaps really not so satisfying. 
Jonah's regard for his gourd was the offspring of unmitigated 
selfishness \ so was his chagrin at the mercy of God in spar- 
ing the city. Having proclaimed that in forty days Nineveh 
should be destroyed, his credit as a prophet was concerned 
in having it come to pass ; and rather than that should 
suffer, he was willing to witness the death or captivity of 
two hundred and fifty thousand people. Is there any trace 
of this bad feeling in our hearts when we think and talk 
about certain nations which we regard as ripe for destruc- 
tion? 

But, as the people of Nineveh repented, the Lord suffered 
not the destroyer, whatever it might have been, to visit the 
city ; but he prepared a worm to smite the gourd. It was 
not done to punish Jonah, but to teach him an impressive 
lesson ; to teach him how frail and transient are the things 
of earth; to show him how selfish and cruel he was, and how 
merciful and gracious God was in sparing Nineveh ; to wean 
him from the perishing objects of earth, and lead him to 
seek a better rest than he could find under the shadow of 
his gourd. Are we not continually receiving similar practi- 
cal lessons at the hand of our heavenly Guardian and Guide? 
Mercy spared Jonah as well as Nineveh; but smote the 
gourd of which he had made an idol. 

We, too, are often "exceeding glad" of a wife, or child, 
or house, or office, or calling, or some object, — an object 
good in itself, as Jonah's gourd was — but upon which we 
bestow inordinate affection. Now, if we are so happy as to 
be of the number of those whom the Lord loveth, he will be 
likely to send a worm to smite our gourd, whatever it may 
be. In no way does God more richly bless his people than 
in blasting their gourds. It was good in him to cause the 



37^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

gourd to spring up to shelter and comfort poor Jonah; but 
it was better, seeing that it had become a snare to him, to 
take it from him. 

But Jonah's gourd may serve as an emblem not only of 
our possessions, but of ourselves. "We all do fade as a 
leaf." "Thou turnest man to destruction, and sayest, Re- 
turn, ye children of men.' 1 But in this he is good, seeing 
he has prepared for us a better and a more enduring in- 
heritance. In man, and in everything pertaining to this 
life, our Maker has sown the seeds of dissolution. "Pass- 
ing away" is inscribed upon all things with which we are 
surrounded. Man himself, his institutions and govern- 
ments, his earthly possessions, and the most perfect and 
stable of his works, are all, like Jonah's gourd, tending to 
decay and death. 

" The fell disease, which must subdue at length, 
Grows with their growth and strengthens with their strength." 



Jpiritual $tm$. 

We cannot all become rich in a worldly sense. Many 
seek to become so, but are not able. It is not so with re- 
gard to spiritual riches. Here, whosoever will may become 
rich by taking of the water of life freely. "Let him that 
hath no money come and buy wine and milk, wiihout 
money and without price." 

Come where ? Where is this wine and milk, — this water 
of life? Ah! we all need the admonition that Paul gave to 
the Romans: — " Say not, Who will ascend up to heaven — 
that is to bring Christ down from above ?...-. but . . . 
the word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth and in thy heart." 
Nothing is nearer, nothing more accessible, than this rich 



SPIRITUAL STORES. 377 

supply so freely offered. It is not away up in heaven, be- 
yond our reach ; it is not afar off, in some vague, dreamy 
region, of which we can form no definite conception; but 
in our hands, — in that blessed book whose treasures of wis- 
dom and grace can never be exhausted. 

But if we only look at a richly-spread table, it will not 
satisfy our hunger; nor will the mere report of wealth make 
us rich ; so the mere reading of the Scriptures will never 
satisfy our spiritual wants. We must appropriate them in 
humble, child-like faith. The bare knowledge that " God so 
loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life," will do us no good. We must comply with 
the condition. The affecting narrative of blind Bartimeus 
will profit us nothing unless it causes us, as poor, blind crea- 
tures, to run to the same Saviour with the same cry. What 
benefit is it to me to know that Jehovah was David's Shep- 
herd, unless I am able to adopt David's language as my own ? 
By that appropriation I am placed beyond the reach of 
want, or fear, or any evil. I too may look forward to a 
comfortable life and a happy immortality. When I read the 
gracious words, "I am the Lord thy God," and can feel 
that he is speaking to me, then I drink of the water of life 
freely. 

How rick, how blessed, is he whose memory is well stored 
with the words of eternal truth ! It is a treasury from which 
he can draw in every time of need. While engaged in the 
duties of his calling, they will be floating through his mind, 
exerting a sanctifying influence, even when he is almost un- 
conscious of it. They will enable him to resist temptation, 
to bear up under the trials of life, and in his most seques- 
tered hours they will be with him, as friends and compan- 
ions, to give form and expression to his holiest thoughts. 

We think in language j but, unless the words of inspira- 
32* 



37& GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

tion come to our aid, how cold, feeble, confused and indefi- 
nite are our spiritual meditations ! Well, then, if the words 
of God are not in our memories, how can we meditate? 
Nay, how can even the Holy Spirit operate upon our souls? 
The Saviour says, "My words, they are spirit and they are 
life." And again: "He (the Comforter) will take of mine 
and show them unto you." But where shall he get them, if 
they are not read, or not treasured up in the mind ? Here, 
then, we are to come. Here are the wme and milk. Here 
is that which will make your soul delight itself in fatness. 
These are the words of God, upon which the soul feeds, as 
the body feeds upon bread. This is the great storehouse 
from whence we must draw our supplies. It is not enough 
that we look in and admire its fullness. We must draw upon 
it for ourselves, — continually, diligently, earnestly. Like 
Bunyan's Pilgrim, we must carry the roll in our bosom, so 
as to have it always near, always ready. 



God, in all his works, points upwards, through an almost 
infinite range of being, beginning in the rudest and lowest 
forms of organic matter, and rising through order after 
order, until the line of progression terminates in himself. In 
the lowest orders of animal existence we find some of the 
rudimental lineaments of man, who is the head and crown 
of the animal series ; so in man we behold the image of 
God, — rudimental, it is true, and but feebly developed; 
still real and unmistakable. 

We may go to the lowest orders, and there we shall find 
not only analogy in structure, but some traces of intelli- 
gence, faint shadowings forth of mind, the power of choice 



TYPES. 379 

and of design, and the possession of as much skill as the 
necessities of the creature require ; all of which teach us that 
in the fullness of life, as well as in death, we may, with Job, 
say to the worm, " Thou art my mother and my sister ;" 
for we are all made an one common plan ; we are all links 
of the same chain ; we have one common type ; we are the 
creatures of one common Father, who is of one mind and 
changeth not. 

The man Adam was the type of man in every age and 
condition. In his primitive state of innocence he stood as 
the type of Him by whom and for whom he and all things 
were made. Having sinned, he fled from the divine pres- 
ence; and there we see him as the type of a fallen, rebel- 
lious and ruined race. Being recalled, we behold in him 
the type of all penitent sinners ; the lineaments of the saints 
of all ages. 

In the quarrel of Cain with Abel we have a striking type 
of the opposition which the world has ever shown to Christ 
and his kingdom ; and the terrible cry heard four thousand 
years afterwards in the streets of Jerusalem, "Away with 
him! Crucify him !" was but the utterance and culmina- 
tion of the same spirit. In Adam we see a type of all the 
world ; but in his two sons we have an emblem of the 
world divided. 

The Ark is a striking figure of Christ, and Noah and his 
family of the great family of the redeemed. In the whole 
story of the flood, as given in the Bible, we have not only 
a simple and graphic narrative of facts, but these facts are 
themselves allegorical, setting forth, as in a parable, the 
great work of salvation. 

In the call of Abraham we have a lively type of that 
call which brings us from the kingdom of nature to that of 
grace, — from Satan to God. At once the father and the 
exemplar of the faithful, his history is an ever-brilliant in- 
dex to direct pilgrims of all ages in their path to heaven. 



3^° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The exodus from Egypt is a vivid type of our deliver- 
ance from the bondage of sin and Satan, and of our intro- 
duction to the glorious liberty of the sons of God. And 
the journeyings of the Israelites in the desert, their wander- 
ings, their rebellions, and the many mercies and chastenings 
of which they were the subjects, are all wonderfully em- 
blematic of the Christian's life, from the moment of his 
espousals to the close of his conflict with temptation with- 
out and corruption within, until, crossing the Jordan of 
death, he arrives safely in the Promised Land. 

In the history and writings of David we see, as in a mir- 
ror, every phase of a believer's life and experience. We 
see Faith — beautiful, simple, child-like Faith — embodied, and 
living and acting before us. We listen enraptured to his 
lofty praise, and sympathetically catch his fire. In his griev- 
ous sins we discover the frailty and the hidden evils of our 
own hearts ; and in his deep penitence we learn how to re- 
pent of our own sins. In sorrow and in joy, in the gloomy 
vale and on the sun-lit mount ; whether lying at the portals 
of hell or standing at the gate of heaven, this m n after 
God's own heart, this impulsive creature of circumstances, 
this pilgrim whose path to glory traversed the utmost ex- 
tremes of Christian experience, is at once our most promi- 
nent exemplar and beacon; and his words are to all ages 
the common property of the church. 

In the history of the long line of subsequent Judean 
kings, the thoughtful Christian will not fail to discover a 
type of his own alternate lapses and restorations; and in 
grateful remembrance of the goodness and faithfulness of 
Him who is his Guardian, Guide and Keeper, he will ex- 
claim, " He restoreth my soul ; He maketh me to walk in 
the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." 

In all the history of man, as drawn by the pen of inspira- 
tion, the careful student will not fail to perceive that the 



A FEW THOUGHTS ON PSALMODY. 381 

pictures are general as well as special ; that the characters 
are types of classes as well as individuals ; that God in his 
providence and his word has revealed to us more truth, 
more knowledge of himself and of ourselves, by means of 
living examples, than we could possibly receive in any 
other way. Faith, hope, and charity, joy and sorrow, be- 
nevolence and selfishness, truth and falsehood, fidelity and 
perfidy, patience and fretfulness, are set before us in living, 
breathing verity. And in the great centre of that system of 
grace and truth— JESUS CHRIST— all that is glorious in 
God and good in sinless humanity meet and blend, and 
shine with a lustre as far surpassing that of the greatest and 
best of men as the sun surpasses the dew-drop that glitters 
in his beams. Yet, glorious as he is, he is clearly and 
plainly set before us for our contemplation, — the God veiled 
in the man, — so that "we all, with open face beholding as in 
a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same 
image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the 
Lord." 



[The following was addressed several years ago to the editors of the 
United Presbyterian, and published in that excellent paper.] 

Messrs. Editors : — Will you permit an old correspond- 
ent, and a layman, who is outside of your particular com- 
munion, but who loves it nevertheless, — one who can and 
does admire your quaint old version of the psalms, yet who 
is at the same time persuaded that any sacred lyric which is 
in harmony with inspired truth may be sung with acceptance 
in the worship of God, — to have a little talk with your 
people on the much discussed subject of psalmody ? 



382 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

I have seen evidences of dissatisfaction among some of 
you with your old metrical version of the psalms. This 
discontent is showing itself, not directly, but indirectly — 
not in finding fault with that version, but in efforts to get 
up a new one which is prol a >iy intended to supplement it 
— I shall not say to supersede it — one which shall be more 
in accord with language as we now use it. Will you 
allow me to say that, after careful consideration, I have 
come to the conclusion that the man is not now living who 
can make anything like as good a literal measured version 
as that. When that rendering of the Book of Psalms into 
metre was made, the English language was much more flex- 
ible than it is now, and could, without offense, be twisted 
into almost any form that the sense would admit of. That 
cannot be done now; and any attempt to do so by a writer 
of the present day would be simply ridiculous. Well, then, 
all that remains, in order to throw the psalms into the form 
of verse, is a resort to paraphrase ; and who does not know 
that a close paraphrase is about the poorest stuff that ever a 
writer threw off? Milton, Burns, and other eminent poets 
tried their skill at rendering some of the psalms into verse; 
but not one of these versions ever found a place in any col- 
lection designed for use in public worship, or ever will. 
Addison wrote a free paraphrase of a part of the 19th 
psalm, which is a grand production ; but so far is it from 
the words and ideas of the original, that we can hardly trace 
the one to the other. 

I have seen a few recent productions which are intended 
to be literal renderings — first fruit of this much-talked-of 
effort to get up a new version ; but really I have seen none 
that would bear criticism for one moment. Some of them 
are smooth enough — their rythm is faultless; but the spirit 
and grandeur of the original are sacrificed in the process. 
Not so with the old version. I know that the " king's 



A FEW THOUGHTS ON PSALMODY. 383 

English' ' is somewhat distorted; but the magnificent spirit 
of the original is well preserved. Let us take the second 
stanza of the 15th Psalm, descriptive of a good man, and 
throw it into the form in which the writers put it : — 

Who doth not slander with his tongue, nor to his friend doth hurt ; 
Nor yet against his neighbor doth take up an ill report; 
In whose eyes vile men are despised ; but those that God do fear 
He honoreth ; and changeth not, though to his hurt he swear. 

Take another. I need hardly tell any of your readers 
where to find it : 

Such pity as a father hath unto his children dear, 
Like pity shows the Lord to such as worship him in fear; 
For he remembers we are dust, and he our frame well knows : 
Frail man ! his days are like the grass, as flower in field he grows. 

Can anything, in either prose or poetry, be more vigor- 
ous than the first, or more touchingly beautiful than the 
second of these quotations ? The quaintness of the expres- 
sion is a beauty rather than a deformity, and the spirit of 
the original is wonderfully preserved, although the ex- 
act order of the words is. not slavishly adhered to. I tell 
you, friends and brethren, if you want a severely literal 
rendering of the Book of Psalms into English verse, you 
have it, and such a one as can never again be made. That 
version is something like Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in 
that it never can become stale or antiquated, but will stand 
its ground from generation to generation, and be more and 
more admired as people advance in true taste and literary cul- 
ture. Moreover, like Bunyan's matchless allegory, it can 
never be successfully imitated. I believe that in these things 
we can see God's finger, — that both these productions were 
brought forth just at the moment when our noble lan- 
guage had become rich, but was still sufficiently plastic. 

You will observe, in the above quotations, that I have 



3^4 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

thrown two lines into one. I believe that was the way in 
which the common metre Psalms were originally written ; 
and that subsequently the editors or printers of little psalm 
books broke the lines into 8's and 6's for convenience sake, 
leaving the alternate lines to begin with a small letter, a 
custom still adhered to, and which is peculiar to these 
psalms. This, however, is a matter of little importance; 
but the two verses I have given above will show how they 
looked in the original form. In old times, when the cus- 
tom was to "give out the lines," one of these long lines 
was read at a time, which was right. I remember an old 
gentleman who many years ago sometimes led the singing 
of the congregate n of which he was a member, and who 
was such a stickler k r old usages that nobody could per- 
suade him to give out more than one line at a time. The 
effect of "giving out" the more modern short lines was 
almost ludicrous. 

But much as I admire your venerable version, and much 
as I should wish to see it embodied in the collections of all 
true Christian churches, I think you err in confining your- 
selves altogether to it in the worship of God. If, however, 
a divine command can be shown for the exclusion of all 
uninspired compositions in this part of worship, let that be 
the end of all controversy; but if any such command ex- 
ists I confess that I have been unable to find it; and there- 
fore, in that liberty wherewith Christ makes his people free, 
I feel perfectly clear in embodying my desires or emotions 
in such language as this : — 

Oh ! for a closer walk with God, 

A calm and heavenly frame, 
A light to shine upon the road 

That leads me to the Lamb I 



A FEW THOUGHTS ON PSALMODY. 385 

Or this :— 

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in thee; 
Let the water and the blood, 
From thy riven side which flowed, 
Be of sin the double cure — 
Save me from its guilt and power. 

Or this:— 

Just as I am — without one plea 
But that thy blood was shed for me, 
And that thou bidd'st me come to thee— 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

That sueh words as these, gushing in song from contrite 
and earnest hearts, do not come up with acceptance into 
the ear of Him who delighteth in mercy, is what I find it 
impossible to believe. Our language is rich in such glow- 
ing devotional utterances, and I believe they are part of 
that living food which the Good Shepherd has strewn over 
the green pastures where he leads and feeds his flocks. 
So are the Psalms, so are the prophetical writings, and so, 
in a pre-eminent degree, are the words he himself spoke 
when he tabernacled amongst men. We cannot sing his 
precepts, nor his parables, nor the narratives of his life and 
death ; but we can embody the spirit of them into song. 
This has been done; and dare any one say that it was 
done without his approbation and supervision, so far as the 
doctrines are true and the sentiments pure ? Will any one 
say that He " from whom all blessings flow" had nothing 
to do in giving Pilgrim's Progress to the world? Yet who 
claims that it, in the strict sense of the word, is an inspired 
book ? I think we may, without fear of error, thank God 
for Pilgrim's Progress as one of his good gifts ; and if we can 
go that far, shall we err in feeling grateful to him for such 
a matchless English lyric as " Just as I am?" Pardon me, 

33 



386 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

then, for saying that I think the interdiction of the use of 
all human compositions in the praises of the sanctuary and 
the family is man's work, not God's; that it stands this day 
a lamentable bar to Christian communion and fellowship; 
and that, were it relaxed, the Psalms of David in metre — 
that good old version of which we have been speaking — 
would be more generally appreciated, and be more used 
than they are now. They would cease to be regarded by 
many as a mere shibboleth, the criterion of a party, and as 
such the objects of ignorant, unfriendly, because prejudiced, 
criticism. 

I often write for the organ of my denomination; but I 
have never said anything through that medium on the sub- 
ject of Psalmody, and I think I never shall; for I hold that 
if what I have said be true and right, that it is to you I ought 
to say it, and not to others. Let what I have said be tested, 
as the Bereans tried the preaching of the apostles — they 
searched the Scriptures to see if what they said was true. 



The nearer Christians come to God in devotion, the nearer 
they come together in heart and sentiment. Two of the 
noblest and most imperishable hymns in our language attest 
this fact. I allude to "Rock of Ages," by Augustus Top- 
lady, and "Jesus, 4over of my soul," by Charles Wesley. 
These distinguished men, as is well known, were leaders of 
the two great schools in the Protestant world known as Cal- 
vinists and Arminians. Both were zealous in the support 
and defense of their respective views, and both abundant 
and successful in their labors to win souls to Christ. 

They were contemporaries, and in the midst of their 



TOPLADY AND WESLEY. 3^7 

labors just about a hundred years ago. It is said that they 
met one evening and debated with much earnestness and 
warmth the theological tenets upon which they differed, and 
that, after they had returned to their own homes, each com- 
posed a hymn. Toplady's soul gushed out in the sublime 
strains of his magnificent lyric; Wesley's, in the grandest 
and most melting verses to which his fine genius ever 
attained. They differed in debate; let us see how they 
flowed together in song. At the same time we may judge 
in what excellent spirit they must have debated. 
Let Wesley speak first : 

Jesus, lover of my soul, 

Let me to thy bosom fly, 
While the raging billows roll, 

While the tempest still is high. 
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 

Till the storm of life is past; 
Safe into the haven guide ; 

O receive my soul at last. 

Now hear Toplady sing : 

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in thee ; 

Let the water and the blood 

From thy riven side which flowed, 

Be of sin the double cure, 

Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Both these stanzas are fitted to express the highest devo- 
tion to which Christians may hope to attain on earth, and 
both are still sung with tears of penitence, hope and joy by 
both Calvinists and Arminians a century after Wesley's ran- 
somed spirit flew to the bosom of Jesus, whom he loved so 
ardently and served so faithfully, and Tcplady had " soared 
through tracts unknown" to his eternal rest. Yet they differ 
a little, and that little is characteristic of their respective 



3^8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

schools to this day. The Calvinist yearns for holiness, the 
Arminian for heaven. 

Let us hear Wesley again : 

Other refuge have I none, 

Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, 

Still support and comfort me ; 
All my trust on thee is stayed, 

All my help from thee I bring ; 
Cover my defenseless head 

With the shadow of thy wing. 

Glorious confession of the sinner's only refuge! It is 
remarkable that the mind of the Calvinist should have been 
led to the same thought in the composition of his second 
stanza. Hear him : 

Not the labor of my hands 

Can fulfill the law's demands ; 

Could my zeal no respite know, 

Could my tears forever flow, 

All for sin could not atone ; 

Thou must save, and thou alone. 

There is but a shade of difference between these two im- 
passioned utterances; but the difference is the same as that 
already noticed. The cry of the Calvinist is still for right- 
eousness, for salvation from sin ; while that of the Arminian 
is for support, comfort, and defense. In reliance upon 
Christ they are alike. 

Now let us have Wesley's third stanza : 
Thou, O Christ, art all I want, 

All in all in thee I find; 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick and lead the blind. 
Just and holy is thy name ; 

I am all unrighteousness ; 
Vile and full of sin I am ; 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 



TOPLADY AND WESLEY. 389 

Toplady, in his third stanza, expresses almost the same 
thought, but in more terse and vigorous phrase. Nothing 
in the English language surpasses it : 

Nothing in my hand I bring, 
Simply to thy cross I cling; 
Naked, come to thee for dress, 
Helpless, look to thee for grace; 
Foul, I to the fountain fly, 
Wash me, Saviour, or I die. 

Now let us hear Wesley's closing verse : 

Plenteous grace with thee is found, 

Grace to pardon all my sin ; 
Let the healing streams abound, 

Make and keep me pure within. 
Thou of life the fountain art, 

Freely let me take of thee ; 
Spring thou Up within my heart, 

Rise to all eternity. 

The introduction here of the figures of a fountain of life 
and of healing streams is not as happy as the more direct 
pleadings found in the preceding portions of the hymn, and 
are too declamatory for the profound devotion of the first 
three stanzas. Still these figures come home with power to 
many hearts, especially in that great communion of which 
•.he author and his illustrious brolhsr were the founders. 
Toplady's close is surpassingly grand and impressive, es- 
pecially where he returns so gracefully to his initial figure : 

While I draw this fleeting breath, 
When my eye-strings break in death; 
When I soar through tracts unknown, 
See thee on thy judgment throne, 
Rock of Ages, cleft for me t 
Let me hide myself in thee. 

Thus we see how Calvinists and Arminians can harmonize 
33* 



39° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

in prayer and songs of praise, although they may differ on 
some points of dogmatic theology, Toplady adheres to his 
one grand figure of Christ as the Cleft Rock, as his Hiding 
Place, his only refuge. He clings to him as the smitten. 
Rock whence flowed the water and the blood which cleanse 
from all sin. Herein lies the power of his inimitable lyric. 
Wesley's more exuberant genius flits from figure to figure,; 
and by so doing weakens his hymn, which, notwithstanding, 
is one of the sublimest in our language. I often think, i 
if such be the songs of imperfect, sinful, dying men on 
earth, what must be the grandeur and devotion of the songs 
of the just made perfect in heaven ! 

In the foregoing article "Rock of Ages" is printed ex- 
actly as Mr. Toplady wrote it; not as it has been altered to 
its own hurt. 



If the compilers of hymn books knew how much they 
vexed and annoyed people of good judgment and taste by 
the alterations they make in the phraseology of hymns — 
which not in one case out of twenty are improvements — 
they would forbear. What right have they to mutilate and 
change a hymn, and then put tne name of the author to it ? 
It is neither Christian, gentlemanly, nor honest, to say noth- 
ing of the outrage upon the original beauty and propriety of 
the language. Even " Rock of Ages " has not escaped the 
vandalism of these unpoetical spoilers. I shall mention a 
few cases as examples. 

Montgomery's beautiful hymn on Prayer stands in many 
of our books — 

<( Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, 
Unuttered or expressed;" 



MUTILATING HYMNS. 39 1 

but that sweet and devout author was too fine a poet ta put 
words together in such unnatural order. As the couplet 
fell from his hand it read thus : 

11 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, 
Uttered, or unexpressed" 

This, however, is but a mild example of these literary 
outrages. 

Still more objectionable are the alterations in the original 
texts made by compilers of those little ephemeral music 
books for Sunday schools with which the country is inun- 
dated. 

There is a hymn widely known, and very popular, begin- 
ning, 

" One there is above all others, " 

which stands in our books in four-line verses, and the same 
in thousands of memories. To me it always sounded dis- 
jointed and incomplete, as if the author had high devotional 
thoughts, but did not know how fully to express them. Yet 
the name of John Newton is appended to it. Here it is as 
Newton wrote it : 

One there is above all others 

Well deserves the name of Friend; 

His is love beyond a brother's, 
Costly, free, and knows no end. 

They who once his kindness prove, 

,Find it everlasting love. 

Which of all our friends, to save us, 
Could or would have shed his blood ? 

But our Jesus died to have us 
Reconciled in him to God. 

This was boundless love indeed ; 

Jesus is a Friend in need. 

When he lived on earth abased, 
Friend of sinners was his name; 



39 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Now above all glory raised, 
He rejoices in the same : 
Still he calls them brethren, friends, 
And to all their wants attends. 

Could we bear from one another 

What He daily bears from us ? 
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother 

Loves us, though we treat him thus : 
Though for good we render ill, 
He accounts us brethren still. 

Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ! 

Teach us, Lord, at length to love ! 
We, alas ! forget too often 

What a friend we have above : 
But, when home our souls are brought, 
We will love Thee as we ought. 

The reader will perceive at a single attentive reading how 
essential the final couplet of each verse is to a full expres- 
sion of its sentiment. Yet this spirited hymn has been sent 
down, shorn of these couplets, and otherwise mutilated, to 
all our churches and Sabbath schools, by men as destitute 
of poetic gemus and taste as they are of honor or of fine 
moral sense ; for I hold that it is a violation of honor and 
of truth thus to tamper with and mutilate the priceless pro- 
ductions of such men as John Newton, and still continue to 
append their names to the tattered fragments they have 
given us. 

I have said that even "Rock of Ages]" has not escaped 
this vandalism. As Toplady wrote it, the fourth line of the 
first verse reads, 

"From thy riven side which flowed," 

thus maintaining the figure of a cleft rock with which he 
sets out ; but these tinkers have changed riven to wounded, 



MUTILATING HYMNS. 393 

and thus confused the figure; for a wounded rock is an 
absurdity. 

In the third verse Toplady wrote — 

t( Fou/ 1 I to the fountain fly ; 
Wash me, Saviour, or I die." 

Our compilers, in their superior wisdom, have changed 
foul to vile, again marring a fine and appropriate figure. 

Two alterations have been made in the last verse as it 
stands in our books. The author, in the second line, 
wrote — 

u When my eye-strings break in death." 

At the time he lived there was a popular notion that, in the 
article of death, the eye-strings broke, and the dying person 
lost the power of vision ; and hence Mr. Toplady so ex- 
pressed the last moment of mortal life. The word, in some 
books, reads " heart-strings. 1 ' Others make it read, 

u When my eye-lids close in death.' , 

I am not inclined to quarrel with these changes ; for no 
sense, no figure, is marred by them. But in the very next 
line the whole sense is changed, degraded, and thrown out 
of the province of Christian faith by the change of a single 
word. Toplady wrote — \ 

" When I soar through tracts unknown}' 

which is one of the sublimest expressions ever penned by 
an uninspired man. He contemplated the flight of his dis- 
embodied spirit through the unknown, immeasurable tracts 
of space which intervene between this lower world and that 
other world where Jesus sits on the right hand of God, on 
the throne of judgment and of empire — that place which 
Stephen, the martyr, saw in vision; that place, that world, 
to which Paul was caught up and heard unspeakable words, 
and which was revealed in splendid vision to John on Pat- 



394 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

mos. It was the journey, the soaring flight, which the 
author had in his mind when he wrote that magnificent 
line, and not his place of final rest. He knew where he 
was going. But these tamperers with things too high for 
them have made him say, 

u When I soar to worlds unknown /" 

giving us the idea, in spite of any effort we can make to 
the contrary, of a wanderer among far distant and unknown 
worlds, " in painful search of what he cannot find.' , Of 
course the man who made the alteration had no intention 
of making the words convey any such impression ; but why 
did he tamper with the original at all ? As the author gave 
it, it exactly suited the views and feelings of the most de- 
vout of Christian philosophers; as amended, it would agree 
with the notions of an infidel philosopher; for he would 
send the disembodied spirit as an explorer among "worlds 
unknown ;" while the Christian, in thought, sends him a 
redeemed and glorified child, to " the bosom of his Father 
and his God. 7 , 

In the Episcopal Hymnal this much-abused line is printed 
as the author wrote it. In the Presbyterian Hymnal it 
reads, "When I soar through worlds unknown," which re- 
minds one of Napoleon's famous saying — "From the sublime 
to the ridiculous there is but a step." In other respects the 
hymn is given correctly in that collection. 



USE AND ABUSE OF SACRED SONG. 395 



Long before I reached the age of manhood my memory 
was stored with many of the choicest sacred lyrics, in which 
our language is so rich. Among the first that I learned — 
not as a task, but because its inimitable simplicity and beauty 
commended it to my affections and my taste — was the old 
rendering of the twenty-third Psalm : 

The Lord's my Shepherd; I'll not want. 

He makes me down to lie 
In pastures green ; he leadeth me 

The quiet waters by. 

These devout expressions of penitence, desire, faith, hope, 
love, joy, peace, supply our own lack of utterance, and con- 
centrate to a focus what would otherwise be vague and con- 
fused. When the soul is hungering and thirsting after 
righteousness, what can better express the desire than these 
words in which Watts renders one of the verses of the 119th 
Psalm : 

Oh ! that the Lord would guide my ways 

To keep his statutes still ; 
Oh ! that my God would grant me grace 

To know and do his will ! 

This simple verse has been to me a priceless treasure ever 
since boyhood, and has many times expressed the most ear- 
nest aspirations — sometimes as the words floated in silence 
through the mind, sometimes as murmured audibly to a sim- 
ple air. 

" When I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies," 

has been to me a fountain of living water since early life. 
One night, long ago, I embarked on a steamboat to return 



39 6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

home. My mind was full of anxiety, for never was I in the 
midst of darker adversity. The noise of the wheels and the 
quivering of the vessel, as it stemmed the strong current of 
the Allegheny, seemed to be in unison with my own brain 
as it struggled with its adverse surroundings, and together 
drove sleep from my eyes. Some time after midnight one 
of the firemen sung the entire hymn in a strong and melodi- 
ous voice, to the good old air of Pisgah. Never before or 
since did I hear music so sweet and soothing as that ; never 
did I taste such balm. It was like the voice of Jesus stilling 
the tempest. At once there was a great calm, and soon both 
mind and body found rest in sound and refreshing sleep. 
Whether the singer shared in the soothing influence of the 
blessed song I know not. I only hope that he did. But, 
whether he did or not, I thought then, and I think yet, that 
it was the Lord's ordering that the man should sing, and 
that I should be near enough to hear. I might write page 
after page of similar recollections ; but I shall only speak of 
one more. 

Nearly forty years ago I was living on a farm, and it re- 
quired hard work and good economy to make both ends 
meet, as is the case this day with many a man who will read 
what I am now writing. We had a little church in the 
country, weak in every way. Our good pastor and the rest 
of us established an afternoon prayer-meeting. It was held 
in the afternoon, because a people so scattered could not 
well assemble after dark. One day, in harvest time, when 
the hour to meet came around, I was weary and exhausted; 
and although I felt that I would rather stay at home than 
walk two miles, still I felt that I must go, for I would be 
needed to bear a part in the service. I started. As I 
walked my heart grew hard and rebellious, and the evil one 
whispered that I only went to please the minister — that- 1 
was not going because I desired to worship God. In that 



USE AND ABUSE OF SACRED SONG. 397 

frame of mind I entered the house and took a seat among 
the few present. The minister soon after rose and read im- 
pressively the fpllowing hymn, which was then entirely new 
to me, although it is found in several collections published 
at a later date. Read it carefully, and see how admirably 
it met my case. As in the case of the fireman's song, God 
spoke to me through it, and gave me bread to eat, the 
strength of which I feel to this day. 

I asked the Lord that I might grow 

In faith and love and every grace ; 
Might more of his salvation know, 

And seek more earnestly his face. 

'Twas he who taught me thus to pray, 
And he, I trust, has answered prayer; 

But it has been in such a way 
As almost drove me to despair. 

I hoped that in some favored hour 

At once he'd answer my request, 
And, by his love's constraining power, 

Subdue my sins and give me rest. 

Instead of this, he made me feel 

The hidden evils of my heart, 
And let the angry powers of hell 

Assault my soul in every part. 

Nay, more ; with his own hand he seemed 

Intent to aggravate my woe ; 
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed, 

Blasted my gourds and laid me low. 

" Lord, why is this ?" I trembling cried, 
" Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?' 1 

" 'Tis in this way," the Lord replied, 
" I answer prayer for grace and faith. 



34 



39^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

11 These inward trials I employ 

From self and pride to set thee free ; 
And break thy schemes of earthly joy, 
That thou may'st find thine all in me." 

Immediately the peace which Jesus gives flowed into my 
soul like a river. I saw everything clearly. I saw why I 
had been thwarted in schemes which were well enough in 
themselves. I saw why the Lord had " blasted my gourds 
and laid me low," and then permitted the adversary to 
assault me, and get up a tempest in my heart that had well- 
nigh wrecked me. I saw that all was well, and instantly I 
became one of the happiest of men. I was the first who was 
called upon to lead in prayer, and never was I better pre- 
pared to do so. The feeling was not so much one of exu- 
berant joy, as of quiet peace and gratitude. 

So much for the use of sacred song. Now a few words 
as to its abuse. In social circles of Christian people the 
singing of hymns is often introduced. It is a beautiful cus- 
tom where it is done devoutly and with proper reverence ; 
but it becomes shockingly profane when it is intermingled 
with levity and giggling— when the missing of a note will 
cause a laugh to break out around the whole circle. It is 
dreadful to hear the name of God profaned by wicked men 
in their places of carousal, or in their broils; but worse still 

u To mock him with a solemn sound 
Upon a thoughtless tongue." 

Equally bad is it to degrade it to a mere artistic perform- 
ance, as is, I fear, too often done by professional singers. 
Take, for example, the hymn last quoted, and sing it with- 
out proper thought and feeling, and it becomes a huge lie, 
an insult flung into the face of the Almighty. 

I trust the reader will pardon the egotism of the above 5 
but it seemed to be unavoidable in this case. It is the testi- 
mony of an old man. 



REV. JOSEPH W. HENDERSON. 399 



Among the pioneer minister? of the Presbyterian Church 
in Western Pennsylvania, there was one around whose mem- 
ory cluster some of the earliest and fondest recollections of 
the writer of this sketch — I mean the Rev. Joseph W. Hen- 
derson, of Indiana county, Pa. 

When that part of Pennsylvania was still known as the 
" Back-woods;" while Indiana county still formed part of old 
Westmoreland, (Westmoreland originally embraced all the 
south-western part of the State lying west of the mountains;) 
before the pack-horse had given place to the wagon in the 
transportation of supplies; when the log cabins of the pioneer 
settlers were scattered few and far between in that part of 
the country, Mr. Henderson, then in the prime of life, came 
at the call of two recently organized congregations and be- 
came their pastor, and never afterwards changed his place 
during life. 

Mr. Henderson was born in Franklin county, Pa., in 1752. 
He was educated in the College of New Jersey, of which 
John Witherspoon, D. D., was then president, and graduated 
in 1776. The certificate of his graduation, bearing Doctor 
Witherspoon's signature, is still in the possession of his 
daughter, Mrs. Lintner, of Blairsville. While he was yet 
in college, George Washington was called to the chief com- 
mand of the army of the Revolution, and on account of 
some peculiar excellence in young Henderson, his fellow 
students, it is said, gave him the cognomen of Washington, 
and hence the W. in his name. This I have from a brief 
biographical notice of Mr. Henderson by the late Rev. Dr. 
Elliott. 

Where or with whom he studied divinity I know not ; but 



400 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

he was licensed by the Presbytery of Donegal in 1779. ^ e 
was one of the original members of the Presbytery of Car- 
lisle, erected in 1786. In 1795, sixteen years after he be- 
came a minister, he crossed the mountains for the first time, 
and traveled westward as far as Kentucky, then just admitted 
to the Union as a State. After his return to his home in 
York county, Pa., he applied for a dismissal from the Pres- 
bytery of Carlisle to unite with that of Redstone. This was 
in 1798. He soon afterwards set out with his family for his 
future home, and in the year following accepted a call from 
the congregations of Bethel and Ebenezer, as before stated. 

Bethel was about six miles south-west of where the borough 
of Indiana now is ; Ebenezer was some seven miles south of 
Bethel. Each of these congregations, at an early day, erected 
a plain but substantial log "meeting house, " and in these 
Mr. Henderson labored without thought of change, until 
the infirmities of age came as the Master's token that it was 
enough. 

He purchased a farm near the Bethel church, upon which 
he continued to reside until his death, and from which he 
mainly drew his living. It was a good farm and was kept 
in excellent order. His family consisted of several daugh- 
ters and only one son, with nearly all of whom I was well 
acquainted in early life. When I was there — and I was 
often there — the family occupied a commodious and rather 
handsome farm house, well and tastefully furnished, and a 
more intelligent, refined and agreeable family I have never 
seen. All his children became heads of families, and were 
distinguished for eminent piety and usefulness. 

Mr. Henderson was a man rather above the average height, 
of delicate organism, well-formed and handsome. I only 
knew him as an old man ; and that beautiful and benevolent 
countenance, with his silvery locks as a crown of glory, is 
so enstamped upon my memory, that I can set him before 



REV. JOSEPH W. HENDERSON. 4°* 

me yet as clearly as ever. He was one of the most elegant 
and accomplished men I ever knew — a gentleman of the old 
school, of the Washington and Witherspoon type. He was 
one of those rare men who at once attracted and awed; in 
whose presence one felt at ease; and yet with whom no man 
would dare to take a rude liberty, or feel any inclination to 
do so. Pleasant, social, and at times playful, there was yet 
a dignity, a something so pure and sacred about him, that 
the very atmosphere which surrounded him seemed to be 
holy. 

Mr. Henderson was a fine scholar, and his mind well 
stored with knowledge. His eloquence was chaste, not 
florid; but in his intense earnestness and tenderness of 
feeling lay his marvelous power over the hearts of his people. 
When I knew him his voice had become slightly tremulous, 
which improved rather than marred its music ; and whether 
he prayed or preached, every fibre of the soul seemed to 
vibrate in unison with his solemn, silvery tones. 

About 1823 his voice failed so far that he could no longer 
be heard in an ordinary sized church ; but occasionally, for 
years, some of those old devoted friends who had grown up 
in spiritual life as his children, would prevail upon him to 
give them a discourse in a comparatively small room. 

One winter day, about that time, traveling near his dwel- 
ling, I stopped, intending to make only a brief call. But 
he insisted that I should remain over night, which, not very 
reluctantly, I consented to do. I was at that time just about 
entering manhood. As I sat that afternoon, and that long 
evening, and part of the next day, listening to my venerable 
friend, as he narrated the incidents and trials of his early 
ministry, and related one instructive anecdote after another, 
drawn from what appeared to be an exhaustless store, I 
seemed to live a year in less than twenty-four hours. It 
was, I think, the richest moral and intellectual treat I ever 
enjoyed. 34* 



4°2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The most interesting part of his conversation was that in 
which he related his own experience in the extraordinary 
religious awakening, which passed over all this country like 
an epidemic, about the year 1802, accompanied by violent 
physical effects — tremblings, faintings, fallings, and strange 
nervous contortions, commonly called the " jerks.' ' Mr. 
Henderson told me that the first symptom of that great re- 
vival was a profound feeling of solemnity and earnestness, in 
which he and his people alike shared. He was enabled to 
preach and pray as he had never done before. Soon after- 
wards came those more violent manifestations of feeling, 
which sometimes found expression in passionate outcries, 
sometimes in total prostration, and sometimes in those spas- 
modic movements which in some cases carried those affected 
from one side of the church to the other. At times the 
tumult would become so great that he would be obliged to 
stop in the midst of his discourse. 

At first he tried to check these strange manifestations of 
emotion; but this was impossible. He then did all in his 
ptower to moderate, and, as far as possible, regulate them. 
He was puzzled, perplexed and distressed. Whether the 
strange influence was from above or from beneath he could 
not tell. The subjects, however, manifested in their moments 
of calmness all the evidences of a genuine work of grace in 
the heart — true penitence and an earnest desire for pardon 
and salvation. Many found peace and joy in believing, and 
lived long afterwards as humble and consistent Christians, 
whose first religious impressions began in this strange man- 
ner. 

In a condition of things so novel and so wild, it was to 
be expected that many irregularities would occur, and that 
persons of more zeal than wisdom would become intensely 
excited. Among the latter was a weak-minded, loquacious, 
but, I think, sincere man. I knew him well. One day, 



REV. JOSEPH W. HENDERSON. 4°3 

while Mr. Henderson was making one of his most earnest 
appeals to the unconverted, he sprang to his feet and cried 

out, "That's for you, sinners !" " If Mr. is going to 

preach, I'll sit down," quietly remarked Mr. Henderson. 
"Go on, sir! go on, sir; you're doing very well!" was 
the unembarrassed reply, and then he sat down. It is but 
right that I should remark that I had this anecdote from 
another source. 

"He, being dead, yet speaketh," is written of one good 
man ; and the same may be said of the good man of whom I 
am writing; for I verily believe that no man in the western 
part of Pennsylvania ever exerted a more powerful influence 
for good in the humble and comparatively limited sphere of 
his operations than did Joseph W. Henderson. To this day 
the impress of his gentle yet lofty spirit is traceable in that 
intelligent and Christian community to whose fathers and 
mothers he ministered. Well do I know the veneration in 
which he was held ; the child-like confidence with which his 
teachings were received. I know how eloquent, how earnest, 
how loving were those messages; and I thank God that I was 
permitted to know, as a beloved father and friend, one who 
bore so bright and unblemished an image of Jesus. 

Of the date of his departure to his everlasting home, to 
his crown and his great reward, I cannot speak with cer- 
tainty, but I think it was about 1836. I left that part of 
the country in 1824. In January, 1826 or 1827, I met him 
for the last time; but his memory had so failed that he did 
not know me ; and even when I was introduced I perceived 
that his recollection of me was confused. Thus partially 
withdrawn from earth, he continued until 1836, when the 
last trembling flicker of mortal life went out. I never was 
a member of either of his congregations, being geograph- 
ically "outside of his bounds;" but I knew him well, and 
received many tokens of his paternal regard. I am glad, 



4°4 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

therefore, that I am able, now after the lapse of more than 
half a century, to pay this tribute to the memory of a be- 
loved and venerated friend of my youth. 



[Written just after his death was announced.] 

The brief but expressive record of the earliest of emi- 
nently good men is in these words : "And Enoch walked 
with God ; and he was not ; for God took him." Almost 
the same record might be made of him whose name heads 
this article. Through a long and laborious life he walked 
with God, and now he is not, for God has taken him. In 
a moment, without pain, or any of the usual concomi- 
tants of death, he was called from the scene of labor to his 
everlasting rest ; from a house of mourning on earth, to 
which he had gone as a comforter, to heaven where are 
fullness of joy and pleasures for evermore. It was very 
much like a translation. The earthly house of that beauti- 
ful spirit is left behind, it is true ; but who can think of 
Albert Barnes as dead? 

I esteem it one of the privileges of my life that I enjoyed, 
for a time, relations of close personal intimacy with this 
good man. I might say great man, for such in truth he 
was ; but I prefer the other term ; for I always felt, when in 
his company, or when recalling our pleasant intercourse, that 
his goodness far transcended his greatness. I first knew 
him in 1831, when the ecclesiastical storm which ruptured, 
for a time, the Presbyterian Church, was just beginning. 
For weeks I had been listening to the discourses of an 
eloquent champion of what he believed to be orthodoxy, 



ALBERT BARNES. 4°5 

in which Mr. Barnes was fiercely denounced as a teacher of 
error. After a time I thought it but right that I should go 
and hear him myself and judge for myself, as to his erro- 
neous utterances. I did go again and again. Never did I 
listen to sweeter, purer, or more persuasive gospel sermons. 
Not the slightest allusion was made from that pulpit to the 
storm that was raging around him. Soon afterwards I 
made his personal acquaintance, but did not become a 
member of his church. 

In social life, Mr. Barnes was somewhat diffident — 
rather inclined to hear others talk than to talk himself. It 
was necessary to draw him on; but when once started he 
was one of the finest and most fascinating conversationalists 
I ever knew. Still his talk excited in kindred minds a 
feeling of love rather than of admiration, and this I attri- 
buted more to the expression of his countenance than to 
his words. I have often met him on the street and received 
his unspoken salutation, accompanied with a smile such as 
I never saw on any other countenance, man or woman. I 
suppose he was not conscious of it ; but often has that 
smile so impressed itself upon my heart that I carried it as a 
sweet memory for days ; and even yet I feel it. It made 
one think of heaven, for it was not like a thing of earth ; 
and it helped me to think of the One who is altogether 
lovely. 

It is not necessary for me to speak of his abundant labors 
as an author. Of his rising before day on winter morn- 
higs, walking several squares to his study in the First 
church, making his own fire, and then going to work with 
his books or his pen. Perhaps he overtasked nature. His 
health, however, did not fail, but his sight did. For a 
time he was nearly blind ; but afterwards he so far re- 
covered as to be able to move about and see his friends; 
yet not so far as to be able to read or write. Less than 



4°& GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

three years ago he gave up his pastoral charge of the First 
church ; but continued his labors as a preacher of the gos- 
pel up to the time of his death. His voice was still clear, 
although his eyes were dim ned ; and his natural force was 
but little abated, although three-score and twelve years had 
passed over him. 

He resided, for some years before his death, in a pretty re- 
tired dwelling, almost at the extreme western limit of West 
Philadelphia. It was there I last saw and conversed with him. 
His powers were in full play, and he seemed to be cheerful 
and happy. Before I took leave, he took me out to see his 
u farm," as he called it — about an acre, perhaps less. Part 
of it was nicely shaded, and all in good order. I congrat- 
ulated him upon having so pleasant a place in which to 
spend the evening cf a laborious life. He smiled sadly; 
admitted the beauty of his home; but remarked that being 
unable either to read or write, time often hung very heavy 
upon him. Active life had become to him a second nature, 
and it was plain that the deprivation of sight sufficient to 
enable him to continue his work as an author was a sore trial. 

Mr. Barnes was slightly above the average stature of man, 
erect and very graceful in person. As a young man and 
as an old man, I thought him singularly handsorne. The 
disease of his eyes was not at all apparent to an observer. 
As a preacher, he was plain and simple, although clear and 
powerful. His voice was not strong, yet so well modulated 
that he could be distinctly heard in all parts of the house. 
It was plain, earnest talk, rather than eloquence. Never 
have I heard prayers more humble and child-like than his. 

Soon after my last interview with him, I received from 
him, by mail, two neatly printed discourses, published at 
dates ten years asunder — one entitled " Life at three-score," 
the other "Life at three-score and ten." Both are singu- 
larly impressive and touching — more cheerful than sad — 



REV. JOHN BLACK, D. D. 4° 7 

fuller of the joys of heaven than of the infirmities of earth. 
A few kind words in each, written with his own hand, to 
which his autograph is appended, render them now precious 
mementoes of my departed friend. They will doubtless 
now be republished, and I warmly commend them to all 
Christians, especially to those who have seen that length of 
days.* 



Traveling one day on a canal packet in the summer of 
1848, I met for the first time the venerable John Black, 
D. D., of Pittsburgh. We had never met before, nor had we 
that day any introduction ; but we soon drew together by a 
sort of mutual attraction. The doctor was a fine looking 
man and very genial, while his conversational powers were 
of the first order. Beginning with common-place remarks, 
as is usually the case with strangers, we soon glided into 
matters of the deepest moment. 

The reader will remember that in the early part of that 
year (1848) there was a tremendous political commotion all 
over Europe, particularly in France. Louis Phillippe was 
driven from his throne, and was obliged to take refuge in 
England. The Pope fled from Rome, and became a refugee 
in one of the more southern cities of Italy. All the petty- 
sovereigns of Italy and Germany were either deposed or 
compelled to give their people liberal constitutions ; and the 
imperial throne of Austria was very nearly overturned. So 
fierce and so widespread was the storm that everybody 
thought the world had taken a new departure politically, and 
that democracy had triumphed over monarchy ; while many 

♦Those two discourses were republished soon after his death. 



408 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

were apprehensive that anarchy and wild misrule would 
ensue. Things were in this condition at the time I met Dr. 
Black. He was intensely interested in the situation; and 
well he might be, for it seemed to be a complete confirma- 
tion of the correctness of his interpretation of the prophecies 
made and preached thirty-two years before that time. 

In 1816 he prepared and delivered in his church in Pitts- 
burgh a sermon on that remarkable prophetic period of 
twelve hundred and sixty days (years) mentioned in the 
prophecy of Daniel and the Revelation under various 
phrases — "time, times, and a half" — (time, 1 year, 360 
days; times, 2 years, 720 days; a half, 180 days, which, 
added together, make 1260). In Revelation this period is 
plainly stated to be 1260 days, and also "forty and two 
months." Assuming, as most commentators do, that this 
period began A. D. 606, it would close A. D. 1866, which 
was the year most Bible students had supposed that that 
period of "time, times and a half," "forty and two 
months," or "twelve hundred and sixty days," would ex- 
pire. (606+1260=1866.) 

This calculation is based upon the Julian year of 365 days 
and a fraction; but Dr. Black took the Jewish year of 360 
days, which exactly harmonizes with Daniel's time, times and 
a half, as well as with John's "forty and two months." 
This taking off of five days from each year reduced the 
whole period, as the world now measures time, eighteen entire 
years, and brought the prophetic period to a close in 1848. 

Well might the good old Doctor, in view of the events at 
that moment transpiring, be both excited and elated. As 
we sat by the table in the cabin of the boat, he gave me his 
argument in detail, and then invited me to call at his house 
the following day and he would give me a printed copy of 
that famous sermon preached thirty-two years before. I did 
call, and had another pleasant interview. He gave me a 



REV. JOHN BLACK, D. D. 4^9 

copy of the pamphlet sermon, printed by John M. Snowden, 
with copious notes and references. I subsequently loaned 
it to a friend, and he, I suppose, to another friend; for it 
never found its way back into my hands. 

"Now, Doctor," said I, "on the assumption that you are 
correct in your interpretation, may we hope that we are hi 
the dawn of the Millennium ?" 

"Oh, no," he replied; "it will require a period of not 
less than thirty years of turmoil, uproar and war to sweep 
away the rubbish. But things will never again be as they 
have been." 

These are very nearly his words. He did not live to see 
the apparent reaction of despotic power as we saw it, but 
died in the full persuasion that his interpretation was cor- 
rect; for in the fall of that same year he passed over to 
where men do not "see through a glass darkly." 

But was he not right after all ? That was a very remark- 
able year, and things then got an impulse which is not yet 
expended. That first sudden and tremendous wave of revo- 
lution rolled back, as waves always do; but others followed, 
and mighty changes have taken place since that year in both 
Europe and America. His thirty years are not yet up, and 
the world is moving rapidly, and reeling to and fro like a 
drunken man. I think he was right ; and that that remark- 
able prophetic period did terminate in 1848. Up to that 
time the strong man armed had kept his goods in compara- 
tive peace. Rome then sat as a queen apprehending no 
sorrow, and the shackles which bound the slave were very 
strong. Now the slave is free, and the Pope, if we may take 
his own word for it, is a prisoner. At all events he is no 
longer a prince. The rubbish, as Dr. Black expressed it, is 
being swept away as fast as the world can well bear it. 

In this work of sweeping away rubbish every man and 
every woman can do something, either in the State, the 

35 



4 1 © GATHERINGS Itf BEULAH. 

Church, or in social life. Fifty years ago sectarian jealousy 
and exclusiveness constituted a formidable pile of rubbish 
over which Christians were hardly able to climb. Now that 
has nearly all been swept away. The same is true of na- 
tional exclusiveness the world over. War is not the only 
great force in this world. God alone is able to estimate the 
power of the quiet but multitudinous influences now at work. 



[Written by the author, as editor of the Pittsburgh Gazette, in 1865.] 

There are times when the Supreme Ruler seems to leave 
nations for years and generations to work out their own des- 
tiny and shape their own policy, without any manifest inter- 
position on his part — bestowing upon them the common 
blessings of his providence, and affording all mental, moral 
and physical power needful for their prosperity and happi- 
ness — and then permitting them to exercise their powers 
wisely or unwisely, righteously or u 1 righteously, as they 
please. 

This was the condition of the United States, as a nation, 
from the close of the Revolution until the beginning 
of this war. Never was there a theatre upon which human 
wisdom and skill had freer scope, or so grand an opportunity. 
All that men could do to bring about great and beneficent 
results was done. Never did the world witness such rapid 
development, or such marvelous prosperity. Population, 
wealth, intelligence, science, skill, refinement and civiliza- 
tion advanced together ; and not without cause we became 
self-complacent and exceedingly proud of our glorious 
country. 



WORKING TOGETHER FOR GOOD. 4 1 * 

But during this time human wisdom was sadly at fault ir 
some things. To secure peace, purity was sacrificed ; and 
principle was made to bend to expediency. Things which 
in their very nature were antagonistic were bound together 
and forced to harmonize. The Constitution, the prime ob- 
ject of which was " to secure the blessings of Liberty," was 
at the same time made to be the guarantee of human bond- 
age; and this unnatural commingling of discordant powers 
was termed, in party phrase, one of the "compromises of 
the Constitution." These active, undying, antagonistic 
principles could not and did not co-exist in peace. Men 
ardently desired peace, and, to obtain it, entered into com- 
promise after compromise, but all in vain. 

At first it was hoped that the good principle would over- 
come and extirpate the evil — that Slavery would gradually 
die out; but instead of this it grew in power and arrogance 
until it became the ruling spirit of the nation. To oppose 
it was regarded as treason to the Constitution; and to ask 
for its abolition was tantamount to open rebellion. From 
the clear, beautiful light in which we now stand, it makes 
one shudder to look back to the darkness and degradation 
of 1850 to '55, when the Fugitive Slave Law was enacted, 
when the Missouri compromise was repealed, and the Dred 
Scott decision pronounced. We had then sunk as deep as 
we could sink and yet retain vitality enough to rise again. 

Then it was that God interposed by letting loose upon 
the plains of Kansas that which the Bible so expressively de- 
nominates "the wrath of man," and causing it to praise him, 
by giving new life to the nation. He permitted the oppos- 
ing principles of Liberty and Slavery to be both aroused to 
intense activity and to grapple in deadly conflict. This war, 
so far as regards physical powers, began in Kansas; and the 
same spirit which animated the "border ruffians," applied 
the match to the cannon in Charleston harbor, waged a long 



4!2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

and furious war with the government, systematically tortured 
and starved our prisoners, and finally maddened the brain 
and nerved the arm of the assassin who took away the life 
of Abraham Lincoln. All these things were necessary to 
evoke a true and living patriotism, and a proper devotion 
on the part of the nation to the principles of Right, and 
Justice and Freedom — to raise us up from the depth to 
which we had gradually and almost imperceptibly descended 
— to open our eyes to the atrocious wrongs which millions 
of our people were enduring, and at which, for sake of peace, 
and in violation of our conscience, we were conniving— to 
teach us that there was a higher law than our constitution, 
especially when that constitution was so interpreted as to 
make it the minister of wrong and oppression. 

God knew how to teach us, and he has taught us. He 
knew what we needed, and he has given it. He knew how 
to give the nation a new life, and it now rejoices in that 
life. He knew how to abolish slavery, and he has done it 
effectually. He knew how to lay the nation at his feet in 
sorrow, contrition and humble dependence, and that too he 
has done. Through all the way in which he has led us, 
his everlasting arm has been beneath us; his good provi- 
dence has been over us ; his counsel has guided us, and his 
Holy Spirit he has not taken from us. 



The nervous system, as the medium for the conveyance 
of knowledge to the mind through what we call the senses — 
sight, hearing, touch, etc. — is a product of creative wisdom 
and skill surpassingly wonderful and past finding out to per- 
fection. It seems to be the border-ground between matter 
and spirit, or, rather, the connecting link. 



A STRANGE AND TOUCHING SCENE. 413 

In the animal frame there are two important instruments, 
the eye and the ear, as dissimilar as any two things can well 
be, each of which is a channel through which accurate and 
well defined knowledge is poured into the soul from the 
world without. These are small, local and visible organs, 
fitted with infinite skill for their appropriate work; while 
touch is spread with greater or less delicacy over the entire 
sensitive system, without any located or visible organ, and 
is incapable of such accurate and definite perceptions as are 
the other two. Taste and smell are but adjuncts and pecu- 
liar manifestations of this latter power. To elevate them to 
places with seeing and hearing, as distinct senses, is hardly 
compatible with sound classification. 

This being admitted, the number of the senses, in the 
strict meaning of the term, is reduced to three — sight, hear- 
ing, and touch, or perceptive feeling. All are parts of one 
grand system; yet each is distinct and has its appropriate 
office. It is a kind of trinity in unity; perfectly free from 
interference, yet harmonious, and, in a measure, compensa- 
tory. Let the first be absent, as in total blindness, and the 
other two, especially the third, are rendered wonderfully 
acute and efficient. If the second be absent, the accuracy 
and keenness of vision are so enhanced that the eye can read 
upon the flying fingers of an expert, in sign language, every 
word of a sermon as it falls from the lips of the speaker. 

But the total absence of both these master senses leaves 
the soul enshrouded in fearful darkness. There are very 
few such cases. We have all read more or less of Laura 
Bridgeman, of Connecticut, who was deaf, dumb and blind, 
into whose thickly enshrouded soul the light and joy of 
heaven were made to penetrate. But as the reader probably 
knows as much of her case as I do, I shall not dwell upon 
it, but speak of another of the same kind which fell under 
my own observation some years ago. The vividness with 

35* 



4 T 4 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

which that scene has come back to" my mind within tht past 
few days I accept as an intimation that I ought to give to 
the public this article. 

On a visit to the asylum for the blind in Philadelphia my 
attention was called to a little boy about eight or ten years 
old, the prettiest child I think I ever saw — well-clad, healthy, 
bright, full of life, and, so far as the expression of his coun- 
tenance went, happy. He was in the care of a beautiful 
young lady whose sole occupation was to care for and teach 
him, and to whom he seemed to be devotedly attached. But 
how was she to reach his mind, and wing bright thought 
into that deep darkness ? Milton, in his grand lament over 
his blindness, in eloquent pathos exclaims — 

" Wisdom at one entrance quite shut out !" 

But here two entrances were hermetically sealed, and had 
been from birth or early infancy. But one entrance, that 
of touch, remained; and we all know how vague are the 
impressions which can be made through that. But never 
was I so impressed with the great principle of compensation 
which God has implanted in the human organism as I was as 
I gazed at that beautiful child and his equally beautiful 
teacher. There he sat in his chair, with his hand in hers, 
the open palm up. The fingers of her right hand played 
slowly over that palm. That was all. There was no speech 
nor language to bring back a response from the depths of 
that imprisoned infant soul to the feeble rays of intelligence 
which that gentle and loving touch sent into it. But still 
there were responses, quick and bright as electric flashes, the 
sweet eloquence of which was such that the memory of them, 
after the lapse of a dozen years, still fills the eyes with tears. 
The countenance of that boy was marvelously expressive. 
At one moment it would indicate deep attention and pleased 
expectation. His teacher would hold him in that posture 



A STRANGE AND TOUCHING SCENE. 415 

for a second or two, then another slight motion of those fin- 
gers would bring a glad smile, or a look of pleased surprise. 
Sometimes a shade of sadness would pass over that speaking 
countenance, to be quickly followed by a look or expression 
of peace and rest ; and so on through all the gentler emo- 
tions known to the human soul. 

I observed a correspondence between the expressions of 
countenance of teacher and pupil; but, as the latter was de- 
void of the power of vision, it was plain that the touch of 
the palm of the one by the fingers of the other was the only 
way by which that correspondence could be brought about. 

How much knowledge that young lady was able to com- 
municate to that boy's mind God only knows; for I do not 
suppose she knew herself. In some way her soul, her spirit, 
was put into communication with his through this only re- 
maining avenue ; and on her wings, if we may so express it, 
he was borne up and put into union with the Divine. I 
read in that countenance words which could not be uttered, 
as Paul heard such in Paradise. Whether thoughts which 
could be expressed in words had been awakened by those 
fingers ; whether electricity carried emotions from the one 
v .o the other, or how the result was produced, we may specu- 
late, but cannot certainly determine. But the fact that there 
was a lively communication was clearly established. 



The generally received opinion among scientists is that 
mineral coal — anthracite, bituminous and cannel — is of 
vegetable origin. I believe this theory to be partly true 
and partly erroneous — that coal, as we find it, is in part 
composed of vegetable matter, but not entirely. 



41 6 GATHERINGS IN KEULAH, 

In the far-gone periods, when the sedimentary portion of 
the earth's crust was formed, especially in what is called the 
carboniferous period, the growth of vegetables was enormous. 
Remains of gigantic ferns are found in both rocks and coal. 
At that age there was probably no frost, for the earth and the 
sea were both warm. This warmth was in a great measure 
attributable to the still remaining heat of the globe. Some 
of it, to be sure, was solar heat. The atmosphere was then 
heavy and impure compared with what it is now. Evapora- 
tion from tepid seas, and from the earth, which was both 
moist and warm, would be very great, and rains would be 
heavy in the same proportion. Coarse vegetable growths, 
under such conditions, 'would vastly transcend anything 
known at present. Such copious rain-falls would turn a large 
portion of the earth's surface — which was less undulating than 
it is now — into bogs, marshes, fens and quagmires, such as 
still exist in many parts of the world. Peat beds are the 
remains of ancient vegetation which have not been covered 
by subsequent deposits of earthy matter, such as sand and 
clay. But where such vegetable accumulations were sub- 
sequently covered up, they generally became petrified, as is 
evident from the organic remains found in many sedimentary 
rocks. 

But in some sections we find one or more strata of this 
ancient vegetable matter converted into coal instead of 
rock; and we may ask, why is this? Why was it not all 
converted into rock, or all into coal? Why did this vege- 
table matter lose all its carbon in one section and preserve 
it in another? and why do we find in mineral coal a measure 
of carbon far exceeding in quantity and richness that which 
is ever found in vegetables ? 

There are several mineral substances — I think purely 
mineral — the product, not of vegetation, but of condensed 
gases arising from the hot interior of the globe. These are 



HOW MINERAL COAL WAS MADE. 4*7 

known by the several terms of naphtha, petroleum, maltha, 
&c, all pretty much the same thing, under different degrees 
of fluidity, and all of which may be classed under the gen- 
eric term bitumen. Recent experience has shown us how 
abundant this product of internal distillation is, and that 
under the pressure of the gas, in connection with which it 
is always found, it often rushes up to the surface, through 
openings made by the drill, in great abundance and with 
immense force. 

In the carboniferous period, when the earth was still 
warm, and its crust comparatively thin, it is reasonable to 
suppose that this bitumen, in the form of petroleum or 
naphtha, would be forced in great quantities to the surface, 
and saturate the extensive deposits of vegetable matter which 
filled fens and bogs and quagmires, combine with them, and 
in time form a stratum of coal. In this way the carbon of 
the vegetable matter would be preserved, and petrifaction 
prevented, and the two substances combined — as we see 
they are — would together form a seam far thicker than the 
vegetable matter alone could have made had it undergone 
petrifaction. In some coal we find thin layers of bitumen, 
which shows that there was more in some places than the 
vegetable matter could absorb. 

The three varieties of coal, bituminous, cannel and an- 
thracite, are only several conditions of the same thing. The 
first seems to be a combination of one of the more viscid of 
these mineral oils with vegetable matter. The second is 
vegetable matter combined with petroleum. The latter can, 
as we know from experience, be separated from the former 
with great facility by distillation. The third is simply bitumi- 
nous coal converted into solidified coke by great pressure and 
long continued but not consuming heat. The volatile matter, 
which makes smoke and bright flame, is all expelled, leaving 
only fixed carbon. 



4*8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

In the western part of New Mexico there is a field of an- 
thracite coal of good quality. It is only a few miles in extent ; 
and on the same geological level there is a seam of bituminous 
coal in continuation with the anthracite. Why it was anthra- 
cite in one place and bituminous in another was a question 
that puzzled geologists, until Professor Le Comte, of Philadel- 
phia, observed that the anthracite district had been whelmed 
with lava from an ancient but now extinct volcano, and that 
the heat and pressure of the lava had changed the coal beneath 
it from bituminous to anthracite. 

The study of these things, from the stand-point of science 
and observation, is very interesting; for in them we s e the 
hand of God laying up valuable stores for the use of man 
millions of years, it may be, before his foot pressed the soil 
of this planet — not creating coal by the immediate word of 
his power, but bringing together and combining things as 
different in their origin as primitive vegetation and the fumes 
arising from the internal fires of the globe. 



lit* $t0om mtfl (&Ux\j at §utt*a» pfe, 

Solomon, with all his condensed and sententious wisdom, 
was a poet of the highest order. In the 12 th chapter of 
Ecclesiastes we have an example of this phase of his genius 
as terse as it is grand. In such passages we see how the 
Spirit of God made use of natural genius, as a master of 
music would draw from the quivering strings of a fine in- 
strument strains which seem to be more than those of earth. 
God played upon the poetic soul of David, and the sweet 
music has reverberated through the world for more than 
twenty-eight centuries, and will to the end of time. And 
the same is true of Solomon in his peculiar way, and also of 
the prophets. 



THE GLOOM AND GLORY OF HUMAN LIFE. 419 

Having led his pupils through every phase of life, gather- 
ing wisdom and instruction from everything, he leads them 
back to the Creator, ere the sad days of waning life shall 
settle down as a thick cloud upon every soul whose hope is 
bounded by this life. Let us hear him : 

"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when 
thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them !" 

Well may the wise man call the days of the poor world- 
ling evil, whose powers of acquisition and of enjoyment are 
over, and to whom no sure hope gilds the undiscovered, the 
almost unthought of, beyond. Then in a burst of poetic 
eloquence, and in figures which no other man would have 
dared to use for such a purpose, he paints the breaking down 
of the human frame : 

" In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, 
and the strong men shall bow themselves." — What a picture 
we have here of an old man's trembling hands and feeble, 
tottering legs ! 

"And the grinders cease because they are few, and those 
that look out of the windows be darkened." — Teeth gone, 
and eyes that have worn themselves out in the service, so 
dim, that the world, so long and so keenly sought after, is 
shrouded in deeper and deeper gloom. 

"And the doors shall be shut in the streets; when the 
sound of the grinding is low; and he shall rise up at the voice 
of the bird; and all the daughters of music shall be brought 
low." — Sight, hearing, voice all going or gone. All that 
remains of the man is but a battered wreck. 

"And when they shall be afraid of that which is high, 
and fears shall be in the way." — This is one of the saddest 
characteristics of the old age of those who have not remem- 
bered their Creator in the fullness of their powers. The 
poor, dried up heart is filled with dread of some impending 



4 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

evil, real or imaginary — poverty, loss, fire, thieves, or death. 

"And the almond tree shall flourish." — Hoary locks. 

"And the grasshopper shall be a burden." — The last de- 
gree of feebleness. 

"And desire shall fail." — Lower and lower goes the de- 
scending scale, until the man "goeth to his long home," 
the grave; for this sad picture goes no higher, no lower. 
" The dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto 
God who gave it." There is no life and immortality in the 
fearful delineation -of "the evil days" which Solompn has 
given us. He confines himself entirely to man as a mortal, 
to man in his natural state, destitute of that undying prin- 
ciple which is found only in union with the Divine Nature 
through faith. He describes that which Jesus speaks of in 
these words : " I am the vine, ye are the branches. ... If 
a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch and 
is withered;" and hence his exhortation, "Remember thy 
Creator in the days of thy youth." 

Now let us turn to the bright side of the picture. Let us 
hear the language of Faith as it echoes down through the 
ages — fiot in abstract terms, but in the utterances of living, 
suffering, dying, yet triumphing witnesses. Let us see the 
life of heaven rising in power and glory over the mortality 
of earth. 

Jacob in Egypt, utterly worn out, and, so far as he was a 
mortal man, suffering all the evils which Solomon has so 
graphically portrayed, rises to all the grandeur of a prophet, 
blesses his sons; and, as the light of a better world flashes 
upon his enraptured soul, exclaims, "I have waited for thy 
salvation, O Lord!" Compare this scene with anything 
we know of Jacob in the vigor of his manhood, and how 
surpassingly better, higher, and grander it is ! 

Job, crushed under the double burden of disaster and 
disease, mounts up in the strength of his God in whom he 



THE GLOOM AND GLORY OF HUMAN LIFE. 42 1 

had long trusted, and exclaims, "Though he slay me, yet 
will I trust in him !" " I know that my Redeemer liveth, 
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth ; and 
though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my 
flesh shall I see God — whom I shall see for myself, and mine 
eyes shall behold, and not another, though my reins be con- 
sumed within me!" 

In these two cases, both of which occurred in the early 
dawn of revelation, we see, as no didactic teaching could 
ever show us, how the just live by faith; how the divine life, 
which comes to man through faith, rises above his natural 
life, and is only the stronger and more triumphant as the 
mortal powers weaken and perish. But mark : Jacob and 
Job were both sincere worshipers in their days of vigor and 
prosperity. As Solomon expresses it, they both remem- 
bered their Creator in the days of their youth ; and these 
sublime utterances are but the fruits of their long continued 
union with the True Vine. 

Asaph, in one of his psalms, tells us how he had been 
worried and perplexed when he saw the prosperity of the 
wicked, while he had been plagued and chastened every 
morning. But confessing that in all this he had been fool- 
ish and ignorant, and as a beast before his God, he bursts 
out in this song of triumph : " I am continually with thee; 
thou hast holden me by my right hand ; thou shalt guide 
me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. 
Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon 
earth that I desire besides thee. My flesh and my heart 
faileth; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion 
forever !" 

After a loug and laborious life, Paul — "Paul the aged," 
as he himself expresses it — finds himself a prisoner at Rome, 
and being in the power of a persecuting tyrant, at last falls 
under sentence of death. So far as outward circumstances 

36 



4 2 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

are concerned he is in as deplorable a condition as a man 
could well be. He has reached his evil days; and if, as he 
himself remarked, in this life only he had hope, he is of all 
men most miserable. But how is it really with him ? " Out 
©f the depths' ' he utters a cry of triumph which has aston- 
ished the world for eighteen centuries, and sent consolation 
and joy to millions of believing souls, who have been able, 
with greater or less strength of faith, to adopt his language 
when they felt the powers of nature breaking down. "I 
am now ready to be offered, (he writes to Timothy in all 
the calmness of well established assurance,) and the time of 
my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have 
finished my course, I have kept the faith ; henceforth there 
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, 
the righteous judge, shall give me at that day ; and not to 
me only, but to all them also that love his appearing." 

Many other examples might be cited, but let these suffice. 
They are enough to show us that what to the mere worldling 
are " evil days/' as Solomon calls them, are, or ought to be, 
to the true Christian his brightest and best. To him there 
are no evil days; for when heart and flesh fail, God is 
the strength of his heart and his portion forever. As natural 
life ebbs away, his true life grows stronger and stronger. 
That old Christian, whose steps are beginning to totter, has 
lived far below his privileges if he is not happier than when 
his buoyant spirits cheered him in the days of his youth. 
With the assured love of his God and Saviour; with his 
labors and conflicts over ; with his crown of righteousness 
in near prospect ; and with his better and endless life just 
about to commence, why should the good old man — good 
because of his union with Christ, and because his sins are 
washed away in the blood of the Lamb — why should the 
good old man not be happy ? Not with the bubbling, out- 
gushing joy of childhgod or youth, but with the deep, calm 



GROWING OLD. 4 2 3 

peace which in the Bible is compared to the flow of a mighty 
river; while the other is like the noisy brawling of a mountain 
torrent — both beautiful in their places. 



When a man reaches his seventieth year, the world 
around him says he is growing old, and he himself feels 
that it is true. "The days of our years are three-score 
years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be four- 
score years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow, for it is 
soon cut off, arid we fly away." This is the mournful lan- 
guage of the most ancient of the psalms. 

The writer of this article has reached this stage. As a 
mortal man he is not far from his end ; for the strength 
which sometimes carries a man to four-score years is proba- 
bly not his. His has been a life of toil, and trial, and 
many vicissitudes — cast down frequently, but not de- 
stroyed — troubled but not distressed — never forsaken, never 
in despair. The Lord has been my Shepherd and I have not 
wanted; for goodness and mercy have followed me thus 
far through all the days of my life. 

But an old adage says, "A rolling stone gathers no 
moss." True ; but the abrasion which a stone gets in being 
tumbled about in turbulent waters may be better than moss. 
So I thought in earlier life and amidst unavoidable changes, 
and so I think yet. A moss-covered stone may be a cold, 
dead, rough, angular thing ; and sooner or later its perish- 
able covering will be stripped off, and then it stands out in 
all its native deformity. I rolled, or was rolled, painfully 
sometimes, and much against my will ; but I felt then, and 
now I know, that this rolling rounded up my character so 



424 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

that it could pass pretty well without moss. I knew all the 
time that God was leading me, and teaching me, and fitting 
me for some kind of service both on earth and in heaven ; 
and that this was the school in which it had pleased him to 
place me. 

Well, am I old ? As a mortal man I am ; as an im- 
mortal being I am not growing old. I never can be old. 
I think that is the right way to look at it. We never think 
of applying the term to the sun, although it may have ex- 
isted through a longer period than any other object that 
comes within the range of our vision ; nor do we ever talk 
about old angels; although when the Almighty laid the 
foundations of the earth they were there and shouted for 
joy; much less do we ever think of using that word when 
we speak of the Eternal God. The word old is only used 
when speaking of things which in their very nature are of 
limited duration and perishable ; and we call some things 
old very much sooner than we do others. When we 
speak of an old man we limit the idea to his physical frame 
and powers, — nothing else. 

The Old Testament speaks much of old age, and often 
in mournful terms ; but we find nothing of the kind in the 
New. Christ brought Life and Immortality so fully to 
light as to leave no place for the term. Good old Simeon, 
who had waited long for the Consolation of Israel, clasped 
the infant Saviour in his arms and exclaimed, "Lord, now 
lettest thou thy servant " — die? — not at all, but — "depart 
in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen 
thy salvation 1" "He that liveth and believeth in me, 
(says Jesus) shall never die." Paul (2 Cor. v. 1) ex- 
presses the same truth very beautifully: "We know that if 
our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have 
a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens." The part of man which can grow old, 



GROWING OLD. 4 2 5 

the body, is here called a tabernacle or tent, erected for 
a temporary shelter, and is contrasted with the permanent 
abode with which the soul is clothed in heaven ; one that 
is everlasting, and never can grow old. No imagery could 
be more striking. 

When Jesus said to his disciples, "Our friend Lazarus 
sleepeth," he spoke in accordance with his own view of a 
good man's death. But when he said, " Lazarus is dead," 
he accommodated his language to their notions. Both 
forms of expression are right ; but that which he first used 
is much the more Christian. Paul speaks of" " them which 
sleep in Jesus/' an expression as beautiful as it is possible 
to conceive. Death and the grave are very dark to our 
minds by nature ; but into that darkness Christ has darted 
his brightest rays. 

Well, then, what shall we say ? "Heart and flesh fail ;" 
" Man goeth to his long home/ 7 " The dust returns to the 
dust as it was, and the spirit to God who gave it." So we 
speak of death ; and in so speaking we are not wrong. 
Jesus himself said, "Lazarus is dead/' but when standing 
before the tomb of Lazarus dead— *-more than at any other 
point in his ministry — he lifted us up to his own higher 
stand-point, and -showed us that a believer can never die. 
What is called old age is but the loosening of the cords of 
a temporary tabernacle, and death the taking of it down, 
that the occupant may move on and take possession of his 
everlasting habitation. It is solemnly interesting to us old 
men to note the working of the Heavenly Architect, as we 
feel cord after cord of this temporary tent, which he gave 
us as our shelter for a little while, slackening or snapping, 
and to know that it will soon be prostrate in the dust, and 
we be carried to a better country where a glorious and ever- 
during house awaits us — not one house for many, but a 

36* 



426 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

house for each, analogous to this short-lived tabernacle of 
which we think so much and take such care. 

I like that part of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress where he 
places his pilgrims near the bank of the river, to await, one 
by ore, the message from their Lord to come over to him. 
To each he sends a token; and these tokens are but the 
natural giving way of this earthly tabernacle, which is the 
only thing about pilgrims to the Celestial City which does 
or can grow old. It is a beautiful picture of Christians who 
have nearly finished their course, who have fought their 
battle, who have kept the faith, and who are looking forward 
to the crown which the Lord the righteous Judge is ready to 
give. No hope, no joy, no triumph on this side of heaven 
equals that of the firm believer who knows that he to whom 
he has committed his souPs salvation is not only able to 
keep it, but that he has kept it. Now he stands ready to 
go over the river and enter into the joy of his Lord when- 
ever called. While with Job he says, "All my appointed 
time will I wait till my change come;" yet, with the same 
ancient saint he exclaims, "I would not live alway I" and 
with Paul, " I have a desire to depart and be with Christ, 
which is far better !" 

An aged Christian should think often — not of death, for 
he has nothing to do with death — but of that call which is 
coming nearer and nearer from a good to a better life. 
He should bring the hopes of the gospel to bear upon it 
till it shall become to him the gate of heaven, not a descent 
to the darkness of the tomb. To him who believes in 
Christ there is no death ; for Christ himself says so. To 
him death is swallowed up in victory. It has become a de- 
parture, a going home, a rest, a glorious triumph, an en- 
trance into the joy of the Lord. So contemplated, that 
gloomiest of all things, that inevitable doom which nature 



GROWING OLD. 4 2 7 

dreads, becomes the crown of the believer's hope and de- 
sire. 

Faith does not take away that instinctive dread of death 
which the Author of our being has implanted in our nature 
for a wise purpose, and which we share in common with the 
lower animals; but it overcomes it, as a stronger principle 
overpowers a weaker. Those pilgrims in that matchless 
allegory, who were quietly awaiting the summons ot their 
Lord near the river's brink, had no dread; nor ought we old 
people, who rely upon the merits and the atoning sacrifice 
of our Saviour, to fear the summons to go over. 

What goes over? The pilgrims in their own proper 
persons went over with all their individual characteristics. 
Nothing was left behind but their infirmities. Christiana 
carried her strong and steady faith, her maternal love, and 
h r steadfast piety over to the shining shore ; while Mr. 
Honest's sincerity and truth, with all the sterling qualities 
which in him were the fruits of the Spirit, went with him 
into his everlasting home. And so of all the rest. It is 
not some naked, invisible, intangible, mysterious thing 
which wings its way from the inanimate body to another 
world, but the person's individual self, capable of 
knowing and of being known — unclothed mortally, but 
" clothed upon" immortally; and, being washed in the 
blood of the Lamb, becomes as perfect in holiness as his 
Father in Heaven. In that glorious robe with which the 
spirit of the believer shall be " clothed upon " the All- 
seeing Eye can detect neither "spot, nor wrinkle, nor any 
such thing." 

M Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all genera- 
tions," exclaims the Psalmist (xc. i). " We have a 
building of God," says Paul; and in the same place he 
speaks of this body as the "earthly house of this taber- 
nacle (2 Cor. v. 1). Then he suddenly glides into another 



4 2 8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

figure to express the same thought, namely, that of apparel 
or clothing, and for a moment uses the two figures inter- 
changeably, saying, " In this (meaning this tabernacle) we 
groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house 
which is from heaven ; if so be that being clothed we shall 
not be found naked. For we that are in this tabernacle do 
groan, being burdened'' — meaning doubtless with sins, and 
infirmities and imperfections, and outward tribulations and 
trials — "not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed 
upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life." In 
another place Paul tells believers that they have " put on 
Christ." 

In all these figures we have the strongest assurance that 
the disembodied spirits of all who sleep in Jesus are not to 
go away unclothed, but clothed upon, with every power 
and faculty in full play, and that God himself shall be 
their dwelling place, their home, their rest. It was given 
to the great, laborious and suffering apostle of the Gentiles 
to see these things very clearly ; and through him we have 
such views of our departure from this life, now to many of 
us so near, as ought to make us very glad to see the day 
approaching. 



"% m\\ ^xn\ m& trot fa QtmiA" 

■ These precious words are found in the 2d verse of the 
12th chapter of Isaiah. They are part of a triumphant 
song of praise to be sung in that day when the prophecy 
with which it stands connected shall be fulfilled in the uni- 
versal triumph of the gospel. But the words express a 
sentiment always proper to the truly believing heart. The 
psalmist, in drawing the moral portrait of a good man, says 



"I WILL TRUST AND NOT BE AFRAID. 4 2 9 

of him, "His heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord; his heart 
is established, he shall not be afraid." (cxii. 7, 8.) How 
beautifully does this declaration harmonize with the pro- 
phetic song of Isaiah ! 

It may seem to us that it was easy for Isaiah and David to 
exercise and enjoy the trust their language expresses. Some- 
how the notion often steals upon us that there was something 
peculiar in the faith of the holy men of old ; that they were 
blessed with higher privileges and admitted to more intimate 
communion with God than are Christians of the present 
day. But it is not a correct idea. If, dear reader, you are 
really a believer in Jesus, then are you as truly beloved by 
the Father as were any of those good men. Your faith and 
theirs is the same in kind, though it may differ in degree. 
Their superior privileges consisted in the fact that God was 
pleased to make them the mediums of the revelation of his 
will, and not in any superior blessings of personal salvation. 
They were washed in the same blood, sanctified by the same 
Spirit, and thus became heirs of the same inheritance. In 
nothing pertaining to personal blessings and privileges had 
they the slightest pre-eminence over the true believer who is 
now living; nor were they warranted to rest in God with 
more confidence than any who may read these words. 

"I will trust." I will believe; I will rely upon his prom- 
ises; I will take him at his word; " I will say of the Lord, 
He is my refuge and my fortress ; my God : in him will I 
trust." The 23d Psalm is all made up of the outpouring of 
a trusting heart. It embraces everything, from daily bread 
to the glories and felicities of heaven. Its language covers 
time and eternity, body and soul, life and death; and there 
is not an expression in it which the humblest believer may 
not appropriate to himself and utter with an unfaltering 
tongue. This psalm expresses the language of true faith, of 
well-founded confidence, of that hope which maketh not 



43° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

ashamed, and which becomes firmer the more it is tried. It 
is founded upon that rock upon which Jesus says the wise 
man builds his house, against which the rain, the floods and 
the winds beat in vain. 

The trust above spoken of is the trust of him who knows 
in whom he believes. It is not the blind or presumptuous 
trust in which too many indulge. Some persons presume 
that because God is good, therefore he will not be strict to 
mark iniquity. They know and acknowledge that they are 
sinners ; still they hope in some way to be saved, they know 
not how; still they trust, partly in themselves, partly in 
the Saviour, and partly in they know not what, and do not 
care to examine too narrowly. Such trust as this never re- 
sults in true peace and joy. Its highest achievement is a 
stupid quietness of conscience, except in some cases, where 
the mind, being strongly excited by surrounding enthusi- 
asm, is sympathetically aroused, there may be a brief season 
of lively but presumptuous faith, and a gleam of spurious 
joy. 

We are commanded to be ever prepared to give a reason 
for the hope that is in us, both to ourselves and to others. 
" Examine yourselves," says the apostle, "whether ye be in 
the faith; prove your own selves." For this great work 
God has furnished us with abundance of rules and marks and 
guides ; and it is our duty not to stop until we arrive at a 
certain, unquestionable conclusion ; for, until we do so, we 
cannot trust and not be afraid. 

When the disciples, together with their Lord, were over- 
taken in the Sea of Galilee, in the night, with a tempest 
which threatened every moment to engulf them, they became 
greatly alarmed. But when Jesus awoke he rebuked them 
for their fears and their want of faith. "Why are ye so 
fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?" But, it may be 
said, Christ was in the ship; therefore it could not be lost, 



"I WILL TRUST AND NOT BE AFRAID." 43 1 

and they were really in no danger. This is very true ; but 
the Saviour was no nearer to them than he is to us, and no 
more able or solicitous to preserve them than he is to pre- 
serve us. Jesus slept then \ and this doubtless increased the 
alarm of the disciples, But he does not sleep now. "He 
that keepeth thee will not slumber; behold, he that keepeth 
Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy 
keeper ; the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The 
sun shall not smite thee by day nor the moon by night. 
The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil : he shall preserve 
thy souL The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy 
coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore." 
(Ps. cxxi.) Now, doubting Christian, take these words and 
respond to them in the language of the 23d Psalm, and then 
see if you cannot say, with as much confidence as did any 
of the old worthies, "I will trust and not be afraid." If 
Christ be in you, (and he is, unless you be a reprobate,) 
that is better than merely to be in the same ship with him ; 
if Christ be in you, you have nothing to fear. There shall 
no evil befall thee. 

But, says the trembling soul, I am afraid of myself. That 
is right, but not quite correctly expressed. You mean, you 
distrust yourself. In that you are correct, and can hardly 
run to excess ; but you have no reason to be afraid of your- 
self. "The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil; he shall 
preserve thy soul." Surely when he says he will preserve 
thee from all evil he does not omit that greatest of all evils, 
a corrupt, unstable, deceitful heart. By his providence he 
will develop its hidden evils, but only that they may be 
overcome and eradicated. 

Such brief and energetic sentences as this which we have 
set at the head of this article ought to be treasured in the 
mind of all Christians, to be ready in every time of need. 
They serve at once to embody the thoughts we wish to 



43 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

cherish, and to suppress the risings of doubts and fears. 
They are applicable to every possible circumstance of an 
alarming nature. They furnish the Holy Spirit with the 
means wherewith he operates upon our hearts; for it is his 
work to take of the things of Christ and show them unto us, 
and to bring to our remembrance whatsoever he has said 
unto us. There is not a day but we need to use these words, 
if we would keep our souls in peace and assure our hearts 
before him. How beautifully simple are the words, and yet 
how sublime! How befitting the lips of a timid, weak, but 
loving and confiding child . l How honoring and well-pleas- 
ing to our Heavenly Father, from whom we learn to utter 
them, while we run under his sheltering wings! How sooth- 
ing in the day of trouble, and how consolatory in those 
periods, well known to every experienced Christian, when 
God hides his face and leaves us to walk in darkness ! And 
in view of the last and greatest trial, when the gloom of the 
valley of the shadow of death rises as a dark cloud before 
us, and Nature instinctively shrinks affrighted, oh ! then to 
be able to say, with David, "I will fear no evil/' or with 
Isaiah, " I will trust and not be afraid 1" 



Moses left us one sweet and mournful psalm — the nine- 
tieth — in which he says: "The days of our years are 
three-score years and ten ; and if by reason of strength 
they be four-score years, yet is their strength labor and 
sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly away." 

We cannot tell when Moses wrote these words. All we 
know is that the ancient compilers of the book wrote over 
this psalm these words, 6l A prayer of Moses, the man of 



DECLINE AND DEATH — MOSES AND PAUL. 433 

God. u From the tenor of the language, I think it was 
while he was still an exile in Midian, before Jehovah called 
him to an interview at the Burning Bush. Between hi? 
flight from Egypt and that interview, forty years had rollec? 
their sluggish rounds. In his early and vigorous days, the 
presentiment that God by his hand would deliver his brethrer 
the children of Israel from bondage, had taken strong hole 1 
of his mind; and he supposed, as Stephen tells us, thai 
these poor dispirited serfs would have understood the same 
thing when he smote an Egyptian for doing wrong to one 
of them. But at that time they had no share in his gen 
erous, perhaps ambitious, hopes. Seeing that they were 
not ready to strike a blow for their own enfranchisement 
and feeling that he stood alone, and was liable to be called 
to account for his rash act, he fled and found a humble 
home and employment in Midian. Here the rash hero wa f 
changed into the contemplative sage, and the royal soldiei 
into a meek, humble, mourning saint. 

The children of Israel were left to toil on while their 
great deliverer was being moulded by the unseen hand of 
God into fitness for his high commission. It is most likely 
that this psalm, so sad, so inimitably pathetic, was then and 
there composed. 

In those old times life beyond the grave had been but 
dimly revealed. Old age and approaching death cast dark 
shadows before the aged saint. Yet that gloom was not 
totally dark; for it is written of Moses that "he had 
respect unto the recompense of the reward." In this 
respect how strong a contrast there is between the aged 
Moses and the aged Paul. Yet these two great men are 
but representatives of the dispensations under which they 
lived — the Old Testament and the New. The one mourns 
as he sees the shades of age, decrepitude and death gather 
about him ; the other rejoices as he contemplates the 

37 



434 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

impending blow of a tyrant's executioner. We have his 
psalm of triumph : "I am now ready to be offered, and 
the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good 
fight, have finished my course, I have kept the faith; 
henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, 
which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that 
day ; and not to me only, but unto all them also that love 
his appearing." In this contrast we see the great privilege 
which we who live under the Gospel dispensation have over 
those who groped their way through the comparatively 
dark ages which preceded the rising of the Sun of Right- 
eousness. 

A good old man need not .now adopt the mournful lan- 
guage of Moses, that of " Paul the aged" better becomes 
him. Moses hoped to be the deliverer of Israel ; but year 
after year rolled round and still Israel was in bondage, and 
he in exile and obscurity, waiting, waiting, waiting, until 
he began to bend under the load of four-score years, and 
in an agony of prayer he exclaimed, " O Lord, how long!" 
He had, as he thought, reached the extreme of human life, 
and his work was not begun. But very soon it did begin, 
and with miraculously renewed vigor he entered upon and 
pursued the most stupendous work ever given to mortal 
man for another period of forty years. Then he died as 
sublimely as Paul died, and like him received the crown. 
The prayer of Moses, the man of God, is the cry of one 
who is just bursting into active and heroic life, although he 
knew it not. His good fight was still before him: Paul 
had already gone through his, and had won the victor's 
crown. Both reached it at last ; but Moses seems not to 
have had the same clear view of it Paul had. 

"The time of my departure is at hand," says Paul. He 
says nothing about death. He believed what Jesus said : 
" He that liveth and believeth in me shall never die." 



DECLINE AND DEATH — MOSES AND PAUL. 435 

Hence he talks about a departure — a departure from labor 
and sorrow to his exceeding great reward — a departure 
from a good life to a better. His path was as the shining 
light which grew brighter and brighter to the perfect day. 

That the time of his departure was at hand, was to Paul 
a matter of great joy, and so ought it to be to every be- 
liever whose hoary locks and failing strength admonish him 
that his course is nearly finished, and that the time of his 
departure is at hand. Why should it not be so ? When 
we enter upon that decade of labor and sorrow of which 
Moses speaks — as the writer has — the tokens from beyond 
the river begin to fall upon us. Gray hairs, failing strength, 
so that Solomon's strange figure is* realized — "the grass- 
hopper is a burden •" — or dimness of sight, or dullness of 
hearing, all are tokens that the time of our departure is at 
hand. 

Bunyan does well to represent this as the happiest part of 
the pilgrimage; for, if our faith fail not, it certainly is. I 
tell you, my dear Christian reader, whether young or aged, 
that it is impossible so to live that each year shall be better 
and happier than any that preceded it, notwithstanding the 
infirmities of age, and the labor and sorrow of which 
Moses speaks. Bunyan is right in fixing his Beulah near to 
the bank of the river of death • for nothing is better calcu- 
lated to make the Christian glad, to make his condition a 
Beulah, than the knowledge that he is about finishing his 
course. 



43 6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



This is a name around which cluster a world of sacred 
and solemn associations. David and Solomon, and a long 
line of Judean kings, lived and labored and died in Jerusa- 
lem. Prophets and priests, long since numbered with the 
dead, fulfilled their high missions there, and their writings 
have given to that ancient city a freshness, an immortality, 
surpassing that of any other. 

There Jesus labored and taught more than in any other 
city ; and there he was rejected, and by wicked hands was 
crucified and slain. Thus his precious name became asso- 
ciated with that of Jerusalem so closely that we can hardly 
think of the one without the other. 

When Messiah was cut off— when he had put an end 
to the sacrificial worship by his one great offering — the 
mission of Jerusalem seemed to be accomplished. It died 
with him, and soon after it was swept as with the besom of 
destruction. 

Jerusalem was the city of the Great King. His glory 
was its glory ; and when he had finished his work and left 
it, it sunk into darkness and contempt. No king ever after- 
wards held his court there; no prophet's voice was ever 
again heard in its streets ; and no sweet singer after his de- 
parture awoke its echoes with his lofty praise. 

Literal Jerusalem is dead ; but there is a living Jerusalem, 
which is still the city of the Great King. Heaven is called 
Jerusalem, and rightly so, for it, too, is the city of the 
Great King, But we are speaking of earth. "Where is 
Jerusalem ?" says the eloquent Krummacher. "Where tears 
of mourning after God start into the eye ; where the knee 
and the heart are bowed at the throne of grace ; where the 



JERUSALEM. 437 

hands of faith are lifted to the cross, and lips of sincerity 
utter their prayers and praise, — there is Jerusalem. 

'" Jerusalem ! Oh, it is good to be within thy walls, to 
sit together as fellow citizens, according to the privilege of 
the new birth; to sing together in the ways of the Lord, 
that great is the glory of the Lord in the midst of us; to speak 
one with another upon faith's bright prospects that lie before 
us; to number up our joys with which the stranger intermed- 
dleth not; or to place ourselves at the windows toward the 
east, and breathe the morning air of the everlasting day, and 
refresh ourselves with thoughts of the blissful futurity that 
awaits us. ' Oh, Jerusalem, if I forget thee, let my right 
hand forget its cunning !' " 

Next to the name of Jesus, that of Jerusalem is sweet to 
the ear and the heart of a believer; for it speaks of goodness 
and mercy in ages past ; it is expressive of the Church, the 
city of our God, now existing and growing up under the 
light of his countenance ; it is an emblem of the renewed 
heart, a temple of the Holy Ghost ; and it is but another 
name for that city whose builder and maker is God, — our 
eternal home. If we are in Christ, then behind us, around 
us, and before us is Jerusalem. "HereV says God, " is my 
rest forever; here will I dwell." Where? He inhabiteth 
eternity. He dwells in the high and holy place ; but with 
him also who is of an humble and contrite spirit, and who 
trembles at his word ; and where God dwells there is Jeru- 
salem. 

Yes, literal Jerusalem is dead. In its gloomy streets the 
inhabitants glide about more like ghosts than men, and in 
its places of prayer are heard only the mummery and mut- 
terings of dead forms. But of the spiritual Jerusalem glori- 
ous things have been spoken, and in it glorious things have 
been and will be done. In that great day of revival, when 
the Spirit shall be poured out upon all flesh, then shall the 

37* 



43^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

entire Church behold what John saw in vision, — the "New 
Jerusalem coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as 
a bride adorned for her husband/ ■ 



(tifovltfi Hhtittitjj, m mn in W pteJeg, 

Some years ago a book appeared, bearing the title of Ecce Homo, 
(Behold the Man,) which, on account of its beauty of style and the 
peculiarity of its views on the history and character of Christ, attracted 
the attention of both the learned and the religious world as few recent 
works have done. Professor Seeley, of the London University, is the 
author of that work. 

The author of this volume, after a careful examination of that singu- 
lar, and, as he believed, pernicious book, wrote a critique upon it, 
which was published in four successive numbers of the Presbyterian 
Banner. The fifth and concluding chapter is here given among these 
11 Gatherings" — not because it is now necessary to combat the danger- 
ous fallacies of Professor Seeley's teachings, but because he believes that 
there are some thoughts here upon the subject of Miracles, and upon 
the peculiarity of Christ as a worker of miracles, which are worth pre- 
serving. 

MIRACLES. 

The loose manner in which the author of Ecce Homo dis- 
cusses the subject of miracles, leaving the authenticity of 
those ascribed by the Evangelists to Christ hanging as it 
were in mid-air — expressing with ill-disguised reluctance his 
own belief in the truth of the narratives, but leaving the 
reader free to take the opposite side of the question with 
equal claim to logical acumen — is a* good criterion of the 
spirit in which he approaches his subject, and very sugges- 
tive of the words of the vain man, clothed with a little 
brief authority, who said to Jesus, "I have power to cru- 
cify thee, and I have power to release thee." He talks as 
if he felt that he had power to strike the miracles of Christ 



CHRIST'S DIVINITY, AS SEEN IN HIS MIRACLES. 439 

from the list of credible historical facts, and power to let 
them stand. He has chosen the latter alternative, for the 
simple reason that those miracles and the Hero of those 
miracles are so inseparably interwoven in the biographies 
that they must stand or fall together. Had he denied the 
miracles, it would have been impossible for him to have 
called upon us to " Behold the Man." To him this question 
presented serious difficulties; and with all his skill he has 
been unable to surmount those difficulties without leaving a 
weak place in the web of his philosophy; for to admit that 
a man did possess and exercise both the prescience and 
power of God, and yet be only a mere man, is a position so 
illogical and untenable that no sound philosopher would 
attempt to maintain it. 

Miracles are well defined by Dr. Tulloch as "the expres- 
sion of a higher, law working out its wise ends among the 
lower and ordinary sequences of life and history. These 
ordinary sequences represent Nature — Nature, however, not 
as an immutable fate, but a plastic medium through which a 
higher Voice and Will are ever addressing us, and which, 
therefore, may be wrought into new issues when the Voice 
has a pew message and the Will a special purpose for us." 

God seems to have interposed what we call Nature — those 
phenomena above us and around us of which our senses take 
cognizance — as a thick cloud between himself and us, hav- 
ing light sufficient to enable us to see and in some measure 
to understand them, and obscurely to see himself through 
them. These phenomena embrace not only things material, 
psychological and mental, but the laws which govern them, 
and which we call the Laws of Nature. Beyond this thick 
cloud is God himself, upholding and governing all things by 
laws so high, so profound, that all to which the human intel- 
lect has ever reached is but as the shallow margin of an 
ocean, a very small part of his ways, as he serenely does his 



44° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

pleasure " among the armies of heaven and the inhabitants 
of the earth." Now, if at any time, to subserve some wise 
purpose in his ever-evolving plan, he puts forth his hand, 
rolls aside this curtain, and exhibits the operation of some 
mightier law than we are in the habit of witnessing, he shows 
us a miracle — something distinct from his ordinary provi- 
dence and natural laws, and in so doing he says to us, in the 
most impressive manner that he can say it, "Behold, it is I." 

No man ever did work a miracle, and no true man ever 
pretended to do so. Numerous miracles are recorded in 
the Old Testament as wrought by Moses and the prophets; 
but Moses and the prophets are invariably represented as 
only the media through which the Divine energy was put 
forth. Moses was commanded to stretch his rod over the 
sea; but who thinks of ascribing to that trivial act, or to 
him who performed it, the stupendous miracle which fol- 
lowed ! As well might the man who washed in the pool of 
Siloam and came away seeing, claim the credit of the miracle 
of the gift of sight, as Moses claim to have divided the sea. 
Both, so far as human agency was concerned, were simply 
acts of obedience. 

We shall take two examples of recorded miracles— one by 
Elijah and one by Christ — which, being almost identical in 
kind, and yet so different in manner, will better illustrate 
and establish the point we wish to make than any abstract 
discussion could do. 

The son of a widow with whom Elijah sojourned during 
the great drouth and dearth, in the days of King Ahab, fell 
sick and died. The prophet was greatly distressed, and in 
the anguish of his soul he uttered a complaint, saying, "O 
Lord, my God, hast thou also brought evil upon the widow 
with whom I sojourn, by slaying her son?" "And," con- 
tinues the inspired narrative, "he stretched himself upon 
the child three times, and cried unto the Lord and said, ' O 



CHRIST'S DIVINITY, AS SEEN IN HIS MIRACLES. 4JI 

Lord, my God, I pray thee let this child's soul come into 
him again!' " God heard the prayer of his agonized servant, 
touched the spring of a Law higher than any that our philoso- 
phy can discover, "and the soul of the child came into him 
again, and he revived." 

Now let us go from Zarephath to Nain, for behold, a 
greater than Elijah is there. "And it came to pass the day 
after that he went into a city called Nain, and many of his 
disciples went with him, and much people. Now when he 
came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead 
man carried out, the only son of his mother and she was a 
widow, and much people of the city was with her. And 
when the Lord saw her he had compassion on her* and he 
said unto her, 'Weep not.' And he came and touched the 
bier, and they that bare him stood still ; and he said, 'Young 
man, I say unto thee, Arise.' And he that was -dead sat up 
and began to speak; and he delivered him to his mother. ,, 

Although the two cases are so similar in some respects, 
nothing can be in stronger contrast than the conduct of the 
two principal actors. In the one case we see anguish and 
impotence prostrate in earnest supplication, upheld only 
by a strong and abiding faith. In the other we behold the 
calm majesty of independent Power, the grandeur of Om- 
nipotence. No prayer is needed, for it is the Lord of life 
himself who speaks — "I say unto thee, Arise." Durst any 
man, however favored — any creature, however exalted, utter 
such a sentence as that? And if he should utter it, would 
he who solemnly declares himself to be a jealous God, and 
who will by no means give his glory to another, vouchsafe 
such a result as is here described? But Omnipotence did 
restore that precious life, and give back to that bereaved 
mother her lost son. 

If Jesus was no more than a man, or anything less than 
Divine, then his conduct on this occasion is altogether inex- 



44 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

plicable. Here was a command given to this young man 
which nothing short of a direct interposition of Divine Power 
could enable him to obey, or even to hear. But he did both 
hear and obey; yet there is no recognition whatever of any 
power or authority higher than his own. "I say unto 
thee!" Wonderful words! "He spake, and it was done; 
he commanded, and it stood fast." Are we not, therefore, 
logically shut up to the alternative of rejecting the entire 
narrative as a fable, an idle tale, or of believing that he who 
walked to the gate of Nain, who pitied the stricken mourner 
and called that young man back to life, was and is the same 
Being to whom Elijah poured out his soul in fervent suppli- 
cation for a similar blessing upon another mourner ? 

It is beyond the range of human genius and imagination 
to draw such a picture as Luke has here given; and still fur- 
ther is it beyond the power of any base deceiver to invent 
such a story and palm it off for truth upon a credulous world. 
No hand but his who garnished the heavens and arrayed the 
earth in glory and beauty could produce it — so simple, so 
perfectly artless, so exquisitely pathetic, so full of tenderness 
and love, wherein earth's mortality and woe, and heaven's 
power, and life and joy are blended in inimitable shade and 
light. We see in the woman an epitome of poor humanity 
lying in helplessness and sorrow. In the person of her great 
Benefactor we behold all that is lovely in humanity, all that 
is glorious in God, so blended, so commingled, as to enhance 
the beauty and grandeur of each ; and from this touching 
scene at the gate of Nain, the "thinker," be he philosopher 
or saint, may turn without a sigh and exclaim, " It is a faith- 
ful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that " — "The Word 
was made flesh ;" for in that pitying Man of Sorrows, weary 
and travel-worn, he sees "the Resurrection and the Life." 
The longer he gazes upon it, the more he sees the Divinity 
shining through the beautiful veil of Humanity in which it 



CHRIST^ DIVINITY, AS SEEN IN HIS MIRACLES. 443 

is enshrined, and the wonders of that mysterious name, Im- 
manuel, fill and dilate his soul. Still the proud man, glory- 
ing in his superior powers as a "thinker/ 1 gazes upon it, 
and in admiration cries, "Behold the Man!" for he sees 
nothing else; while the humble and devout believer looks 
upon it, and in adoration exclaims, "My Lord and my 
God!" So it is; and the fact that so it is, and that these 
things are hid from the wise and prudent and revealed unto 
babes, caused Jesus himself to rejoice in spirit and render 
audible thanksgiving to the Eternal Father. 

" Now by this I know that thou art a man of God !•" ex- 
claimed the widow of Zarephath to the prophet, when he 
delivered her son, who had been dead but was alive again, 
to her embraces. How did she know it ? She saw his an- 
guish; she probably heard his agonizing prayer; and both 
united in convincing her that it was not by his power that 
this precious life had been restored. She saw that lie was 
not a God. 

But the widow of Nain could not have uttered such an 
exclamation, because her Benefactor did not act as a man, 
but as a God. Elijah prayed that the dead might be re- 
stored to life. Jesus did not. Elijah, by his every act in 
the case, proclaimed his own impotence; Jesus, on the 
other hand, in the calm majesty of inherent power, com- 
manded back the departed spirit of the dead man. It were 
an outrage alike to the reason of a child and of a sage to 
suppose that any being less than Almighty could speak as 
Jesus spoke on this occasion, and cause "the dull cold ear 
of death " to hear his voice. He spoke only in his own 
name, and doubtless he did so for the same purpose that he 
bade the man sick of the palsy to arise and take up his bed 
and walk to his own home — to let those who witnessed the 
scene know, to use his own language, " that the Son of Man 
hath power on earth" — not only to forgive sins, a clearly 



444 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

Divine prerogative, but power to heal all manner of mala- 
dies, power to raise the dead, power over all the great blind 
forces of Nature. 

Jesus was much in prayer, but we never hear that he 
prayed, as Elijah did, that a miracle might be wrought, or 
for power to work a miracle himself. When "the Word 
was made flesh and dwelt among us," as a man among men, 
yet "the Son of God with power," and stood as the repre- 
sentative of both God and man, and as mediator between 
them, there subsisted a relation between the Father and 
himself, the mysteries of which it were impious in us to 
attempt to fathom. He prayed often and fervently; but yet 
in his principal recorded prayer the grandeur of the Godhead 
bursts through the profound humility of the supplicant, and 
he cries, "Father, I will." His prayers and his miracles 
were alike peculiar to himself, and in strong contrast with 
those of either prophets or apostles. 

Take two other examples. A man in a synagogue where 
Jesus was teaching the people had a withered hand.' Jesus 
said to him, "Stretch forth thy hand." He did so, and 
instantly, it was restored to perfect soundness. Another 
man, with crippled and impotent feet and ankles, sat at the 
entrance of the temple begging alms. Peter, seeing his be- 
seeching look, pitied him and said, "In the name of Jesus 
Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." Now if Christ was 
only a good man, why did not Peter imitate him, and 
merely say, "Rise up and walk" ? The reason is perfectly 
obvious. Jesus spoke as he did to prove to those who wit- 
nessed the miracle, and to us who read the artless narrative, 
that he was "God manifest in the flesh;" and that he did 
it by an inherent power. Peter invoked the name of Jesus 
Christ of Nazareth to prove the same thing. Jesus claimed the 
power as his own, and unhesitatingly gathered to himself all 
the glory. Peter, on the other hand, with passionate ear- 



Christ's divinity, as seen in his miracles. 445 

nestness, disclaimed the power and the glory, and gave them 
both to Christ. 

"It is not in me: God will give Pharaoh an answer in 
peace," said Joseph to the perplexed and troubled monarch 
of Egypt ; but Jesus says to his anxious disciples who were 
about to enter upon their great and perilous mission, " / 
will give you a mouth and wisdom which all your adversa- 
ries shall not be able to gainsay nor resist." Why did he 
not say, as Joseph did, " God will give "? There is but one 
answer: himself was God. Prophets said, "Thus saith 
the Lord." Christ said, " /say unto you." Why this re- 
markable difference? " The word was God." On no 
other hypothesis can we account for the strong and uniform 
contrast between Christ and all other great and good men 
in this respect. Christ, and Christ alone, of all who ever 
wore the human form, claimed for himself the faith, the 
love and the worship of men, and these in measure com- 
mensurate with what is due to God himself. "Ye believe 
in God, believe also in me." Christ only, of all who ever 
were the agents of supernatural power, claimed to have 
that power in himself. He was therefore either Divine, or 
he was the most arrogant being who ever walked this earth. 
But this last hypothesis is impossible, because he received 
from the Father more and stronger expressions of acknowl- 
edgment and approval than any of the sons of men. 
Twice, in audible words, he spake from heaven, saying, 
" This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased;" and 
in every miracle which Jesus wrought, the Father's seal was 
set upon him afresh. 

We have so far spoken of the exertion of supernatural/*? wr 
on the part of Christ. Constituted as we are, this is the ele- 
ment in the miraculous which strikes us the most strongly and 
readily ; yet to the profound thinker, there are other elements 
if possible still more supernatural, superhuman and wonderful. 

33 



446 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

In an incident related by Matthew (xvii. 25-27,) we find 
an exertion of several distinct attributes of Divinity in a 
manner at once so touchingly simple, and yet so serenely 
grand, that the longer we ponder it the more we are aston- 
ished. We shall give it in the terse and artless language 
of the Evangelist • [although the same passage is quoted in 
a preceding article in these " Gatherings.''] 

" And when they were come to Capernaum, they that re- 
ceived tribute money came to Peter and said, ' Doth your 
Master pay tribute?' He saith, ' Yes.' And when he was 
come into the house Jesus prevented him, (anticipated him 
in what he was about to say) saying, c What thinkest thou, 
Simon? of whom do the kings of the earth take custom or 
tribute? of their own children or of strangers ?' Peter saith 
unto him, l Of strangers.' . Jesus saith unto him, 'Then 
are the children free. Notwithstanding, lest we should 
offend them, go thou to the sea and cast a hook, and take 
up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast 
opened his mouth there shalt thou find a piece of money 3 
that take and give unto them for me and thee.' " 

Let us calmly and quietly consider what is involved in 
all this. In the first place it shows that Jesus knew what 
the collectors of tribute had said to Peter. This was 
omniscience. He then claimed, but waived his own immu- 
nity, his prerogative as a prince, which lifted him above 
the rank of a tributary. But he was so poor that he had 
not wherewith to pay. What then ? For once, and only 
once, he levied tribute upon his own all-embracing dominion 
to supply his own wants, and that only to the small amount 
which he then needed. In some way, as we call by chance, 
a piece of money had been dropped into the sea. He 
knew where it was and sent a particular fish to pick it up 
and carry it in its mouth — a thing as foreign to its nature 
and habits as anything could be. Then he directed that 



CHRIST'S DIVINITY, AS SEEN IN HIS MIRACLES. 447 

fish to Peter's kook, where it was caught and the money 
secured. In all this there was not the slightest reference to 
any power or any knowledge higher than his own. As 
quietly as an earthly master would send his servant to do 
any common thing, did Jesus send Peter on this extraor- 
dinary errand, and it was done as if neither Master nor 
servant thought there was anything marvelous about it. 

The minuteness of the knowledge of Christ of things 
future was most strikingly illustrated in his warning to 
Peter that he would thrice deny him before the cock should 
crow — a thing so utterly improbable that Peter pointedly 
refused to believe it. And yet it happened precisely as 
predicted. Again : when the disciples wished to know where 
they should prepare the passover, Jesus said, " When ye are 
entered into the city there shall a man meet you bearing a 
pitcher of water; follow him into the house where he 
entereth in ; and ye shall say to the goodman of the house, 
* The Master saith unto thee, where is thy guest chamber 
where I shall eat the passover with my disciples ? ' And he 
shall show you a large upper room furnished. There make 
ready.' ' In all these cases we see absolute Omniscience, 
Omnipresence, Dominion and Power. The accident of the 
lost money, the fish, the bird, the man are alike under his 
control. Thus Jesus, in all his dealings with the bodies and 
spirits of men, with inorganic nature in its calmest or most 
turbulent aspects, with diseases in every form, and with 
death itself, with the fishes of the sea, the fowls of heaven, 
the beasts of the earth, and, in short, with all things, acted 
habitually as God, although in the form of man. He 
" thought it not robbery to be equal with God." Is it for 
us to think otherwise ? 

It is written, "He took upon him the form of a servant, 
and was made in the likeness of men." Here it is em- 
phatically declared that the taking this form was his own 



44^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

act — which, without outraging all the laws of language, 
could riot be said of any being who was less than divine, 
as indeed the apostle, in the preceding verse, declares him 
to have been, saying, '" Who, being in the form of God, 
thought it not robbery to be equal with God." (Phil. ii. 6.) 
This amazing declaration is in harmony with the entire 
history of Christ as given in the four Gospels, and in 
perfect keeping with the immeasurable claims he made 
upon the faith, the devotion, the fealty and the obedience 
of men, while proclaiming himself to be "meek and lowly 
in heart," as his entire history as recorded bears evidence 
that he really was. Eliminate the divine element, and all 
that remains of Christ is inconsistent, contradictory, 
enigmatical and discordant. Holding this opinion of him,, 
well might our author say that he felt "constrained to con- 
fess that there was no historical character whose motives, 
objects, and feelings remained so incomprehensible to him." 
We repeat the remark just made, that the doctrine of the 
divinity of Christ can alone harmonize and render consistent 
or even credible, the account we have of his life and teach- 
ings. But this view is . totally at variance with the work 
under consideration, as will be seen by the copious extracts 
we have given. The Christ of the Gospels is consistent 
with himself — with his words and his works; with his im- 
measurable claims and pretensions ; with his unlimited and 
independent power, with his perfect and absolute Om- 
niscience; as well as with his poverty, sorrows, and 
sufferings; with his life, death, and resurrection — very God 
and very man united in one person; the invisible God 
made manifest in the visible man, yet only manifest to 
the eye of faith. To the Jews, as such, he was "a stum- 
bling block, and to the Greeks foolishness." His enemies, 
while he was on earth., saw only the man; and this author 
can and will see no more. Pilate knew nothing about him, 



CHRIST'S DIVINITY, AS SEEN IN HIS MIRACLES. 449 

other than that he was guilty of no offense known to the laws 
of the empire; and in the vain hope of saving the life of 
an innocent victim of popular fury, he suffered him to be 
humiliated by his soldiers by being arrayed in a gorgeous 
robe, and crowned with thorns ; and thus arrayed, thus 
disfigured and disguised, he paraded him before the multi- 
tude, crying, "Ecce Homo /" 

That weak and cowardly magistrate, however, was not so 
much to blame for what he did — for he knew not with 
whom he was dealing — as the man who, in the present day, 
attempts to dash the crown of Divinity from the brow of 
Christ, strip him of his own beautiful garments — beautiful 
because appropriate, and then bring him before us, as he 
has done, crowned with his own tawdry encomiums, of 
which the crown of thorns was a fit emblem ; arrayed in a 
purple robe, woven out of his own imagination, and full of 
gaping seams, at once a romance and a caricature; and 
bearing in his hand the sceptre of a spectral kingdom, of 
which the reed given by the mocking soldiers was an ap- 
propriate type; shouting, as the Roman Governor did, 
"Behold the man." 

Pilate was not successful in his effort to render Christ ac- 
ceptable to the ferocious rulers and rabble by disguising 
him ; neither will the ingenious author of this book be suc- 
cessful in his effort to get up a Christ with whom the world 
will not quarrel. Men will look at his work, and wonder at 
his skill, perchance admire his hero for a while, and then 
suffer the author and the hero to drift down the stream of 
time among a thousand other forgotten things. Meanwhile 
they will take the real and ever-present Christ and do 
with him as was done eighteen hundred years ago, they 
will "put his own raiment on him," and continue to treat 
him as they have ever done. And he will continue to be 
what he has ever been — to some a stumbling block, to some 

38* 



45° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

foolishness; while ever-growing multitudes will still hail 
him as God manifest in the flesh — the incarnate Logos — 
the Man of Sorrows, who bare our sins in his own body on 
the tree ; and who, in the weakest, saddest, darkest hour of 
his mortal life, solemnly declared, "He that hath seen me 
hath seen the Father." 



Can we thank God for the infliction of natural death ? 
Surely we can. Like all his works, it is very good. I love 
to view it as the first step in the great work of redemption, 
as the first expression of the loving kindness of our Heavenly 
Father. 

Is the death of the body a blessing? Certainly. Is it a 
blessing to all ? It is, so far as it opens a door of hope 
to all. But, like all other blessings, it may be converted, 
by unbelief and impenitency, into a curse. To the be- 
liever — to him who has fled for refuge to the hope set 
before him in the gospel — it is an unspeakable blessing. 
To him " to die is gain." The death of the sinful, sinning 
nature restores him to perfect spiritual life in Christ; and, 
through death, even that mortal part shall be raised again 
at the last day in glory, honor, and immortality. 

I think these are wholesome and scriptural views of this 
solemn subject. I am aware that many regard the sentence 
passed upon man in Eden as the act of a severe and inex- 
orable Judge, rather than that of a kind and merciful Father. 
But it is a gloomy, cheerless, and, I think, erroneous view. 
It ought never to be separated in thought from the great 
work of human salvation; for it constitutes an indispensable 
part of it. In it Mercy and Truth meet together, Righteous- 
ness and Peace kiss each other. 



LIFE AND DEATH. 45 l 

In the antediluvian world human life was extended to 
several centuries, and men conversed with their descendants 
to the seventh generation. As all knowledge, historical, 
religious, and scientific, had then to be transmitted orally, 
there seemed to be a necessity for this great length of life. 
To us such length of days would seem like immortality. 
But what was the moral effect of that longevity? Although 
under an economy of grace ; although the Holy Spirit strove 
with them, and a few holy men faithfully warned them to 
flee from the wrath to come ; yet all flesh corrupted his way 
before God; the earth was filled with violence; and God 
declared that Noah was the only righteous man in that gen- 
eration. Bad as the world is now, bad as its state has been 
at any time since the flood, such universal apostasy never 
occurred at any subsequent period. 

The reduction of human life to one-tenth of what it 
was before the flood is therefore a merciful dispensation. 
Although men live but a few years now, yet Providence 
has surrounded them with such marvelous facilities for the 
acquisition and transmission of knowledge that they are able 
to avail themselves of longer and more varied experience 
than was enjoyed by the antediluvians. Enoch conversed 
with Adam, and Noah with Enoch; but we can converse, 
by means of written truth, with Adam, and Enoch, and 
Noah; with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; with Moses, and 
Samuel, and David ; with kings and prophets, who, though 
dead, yet speak. We can follow Him who went about doing 
good, and hear the gracious words that flowed from his lips. 
We can stand with Paul on Mars' Hill, and share in the 
wondrous visions of John in Patmos. The great drama 
of the Reformation we can cause to be re-enacted as often 
as we please; and the mighty movements of our own time 
are all brought as it were under our eye. Talk of the great 
experience of Methuselah ! It was nothing to that of the 
well informed man of our own day. 



45 2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

"I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth 
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; and who- 
soever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." When 
the Saviour uttered these words, he immediately made the 
emphatic inquiry, "Believest thou this?" And well may 
we put the same inquiry to our own hearts. The declara- 
tion is so at variance with our carnal or natural sense, so 
different from the common current of our ideas, that few — 
perhaps none — believe it in that strong, realizing sense 
which the obvious import of the words require. 

What, then, is life, — the life here spoken of by the Saviour? 
It is not natural life, — the life we live here in the flesh. It 
is something else. It is more than that life restored to us 
which was lost in Eden. It is a partaking of the life of Christ 
himself. It is not only life in a higher sense than Adam 
possessed it, but a confirmation in it by all the guarantees 
which infinite faithfulness and power can throw around it. 
Adam died; but Jesus declares that "he that believeth in 
me shall never die." "As I live, ye shall live also." This 
blessed state is elsewhere called newness of life; a life essen- 
tially different from that of mere creatures; a life not inherent, 
but derived; not in ourselves, but in Christ. 

This life, this spiritual, eternal life, begins the moment a 
sinner believes in Christ. He eats of that bread which came 
down from heaven. He drinks of that living water of which 
the Saviour spoke. He can lTunger no more, neither can 
he thirst any more ; for he has within him a well of water 
springing up into everlasting life. It is not that he shall 
hereafter be put in possession of the great boon of eternal 
life; but he is already in possession of it. He will never die. 

But putting off the idea of eternal life to a future state of 
existence, *we rob ourselves of much comfort and joy, and 
fail to glorify God. In nothing is our unbelief more strik- 
ingly exhibited than in this. And why is it ? It is because 



LIFE AND DEATH. 453 

we esteem ourselves to be flesh rather than spirit. We esteem 
the soul to be an appendage to the body, rather than that 
the body is an appendage to the soul. We all, to be sure, 
acknowledge the spirit of man to be the more excellent part ; 
but this abstract acknowledgment is one thing ; our habitual 
thought or feeling is a very different thing. The mortal 
body is always present to the mind ; the immortal soul only 
occasionally. The wants and desires of the one afford the 
spring to almost all our actions; the other only receives 
attention when the clamors of its rival are quieted. Is it 
not so ? Is it to be wondered at, therefore, that when I say 
me I chiefly mean my corporeal frame, together with those 
thinking faculties which it has brought into thraldom ? When 
I say, "I live," I mean my animal life; and when I speak of 
death, it is hardly necessary to say that I mean the death of 
the body. Thus we habitually talk, which proves that thus 
we habitually think. Hence that greater and more excellent 
life which Jesus purchased is thrust out of mind. 

It is not what we know, or what we have learned, or what 
we believe, that gives character to the mind; but it is that 
which fills the mind, that which it loves to cherish, — in one 
word, that which we love. If we are partakers of that new 
life, it will struggle to bring every thought into captivity to 
Christ; and it will succeed. The true riches will overcome 
the perishing things of time and sense ; the soul will gain 
the ascendency over the body; and thus all be brought into 
order, harmony, and beauty. 

Eternal life is only the continuation and perfection of 
spiritual life. Even in this life it transcends what eye hath 
seen, or ear heard, or the heart of the natural man conceived. 
Peter speaks of joy unspeakable and full of glory. What, 
then, must that state be wherein we shall be like the glorified 
Redeemer, and see him as he is; when "the Lamb in the 
midst of the throne shall lead his people to fountains of 



454 GATHERINGS IN EEULAH. 

living water, and God himself shall wipe all tears from their 
eyes;" when every faculty of the soul shall be brought into 
perfect harmony with the divine will ; when all desirable 
knowledge shall be opened freely to the ever-growing, ever- 
expanding mind ; when we shall dwell in a world of vast 
population, all holy, all kind and affectionate, all happy and 
intent on diffusing happiness around them, where heart will 
knit with heart in ever-during harmony, and all unite in one 
song of praise " to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and 
to the Lamb for ever and ever "? The life and bliss of the 
inhabitants will be as firm and lasting as the throne of God; 
they being indeed his beloved children, whom he has created, 
and redeemed, and brought home to himself. Then will the 
Saviour's prayer be fully answered: — "Father, I will that 
they whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that 
they may behold my glory." 



The weary love to dwell upon the thought of heaven as a 
place of rest; the sorrowful, as a place of joy; the troubled 
soul longs for it as a state of peace and repose; the poor 
and needy look forward to it as a place where every want 
shall be supplied and they be filled with all the fullness of 
God; while the ardent Christian longs for ite glory and 
beauty and lofty praise. These are all right. But there is 
one other character whose aspirations are mo;e fervent than 
any of these; it is the sin-burdened soul who longs for n as 
a place of holiness. To him its rest, its peace, its fullness, 
and its glory, are delightful thoughts; but the anticipation 
that there he shall be made pure is the most joyful of all. 
To enjoy the privilege of joining in that song, "to Him that 



THE ATTRACTIONS OF HEAVEN. 455 

washed us in his blood,' ■ is to such the sweetest hope that 
clusters around the thought of heaven. While thinking of 
it, he loves to sing — 

" There we shall see his face, 

And never, never sin." 

The nearer we get to heaven the more ardent will be our 
longings for this greatest of all the blessings of salvation. 
Cowper, near the close of his sweet but sorrowful life, bursts 
out in triumph at this thought : — 

" When that happy era begins, 

When arrayed in his glory I shine; 
And no longer pierce with my sins 
The boso?n on which I recline " 

When the angel announced to Joseph the great fact that 
his Mary was chosen to be the mother of the Saviour, he 
said, "Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his 
people from their sins." He did not tell him that he should 
save his people from the wrath of God, from eternal death, 
from the punishment they justly merited, but from their sins. 
The great thing in salvation, and that which carries every- 
thing else with it, is the change from a sinful to a holy 
nature. The love of God, the glories and joys of heaven, 
all follow as necessary concomitants. 

Christian, is this your chief desire ? Is this the sweetest 
ingredient in your hope of heaven ? Or have you merely 
some vague idea of happiness, without connecting with it 
that of holiness ? It is a vain hope. There can be no peace, 
no rest, no joy, without holiness. None but the pure in 
heart can see God, or dwell in his presence. Let this be 
your prayer: "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and 
renew a right spirit within me!" Let this fervent aspiration 
be the language of your heart, whether you express it audi- 
bly or not. Then you may hope to grow in meetness for 
heaven. 



45^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 



There are few sadder sights than an old man or woman 
whose affections have died out. Yet how many such we 
see ! Some have become soured through the toils, and care^, 
and disappointments of life ; others have their hearts har- 
dened by a too eager pursuit of worldly interests ; others again 
are rendered unamiable because they can not or will not 
fully forgive the thousand little affronts they have met with 
in their intercourse with their families and the world. These 
are all causes of this unhappy condition; but none of them 
could produce that effect, were the graces of God's Spirit 
cherished. These are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gen- 
tleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance. Now look 
at these nine graces, and see if such a rich cluster could 
grow out of a cold, dead, neglected heart. Well did the 
wise man say, "Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of 
it are the issues of life." None but a heart diligently 
kept can yield such fruits as are described in these simple 
lines — 

11 A heart in every thought renewed, 

And full of love divine; 
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good, 

A copy, Lord, of thine. " 

Love is the central grace in the Christian character. It 
is not an abstraction, but a living and active principle, 
through which, faith manifests itself both to ourselves and 
others. It is not, and cannot be, dead to the claims of our 
fellow beings, while alive to God; hence an apostle asks, 
"He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how 
can he love God whom he hath not seen?" It is a principle 
that overspreads the entire Christian character, and lays hold 
of everything that is attractive, and rejoices in it. Where 



DEADNESS OF HEART. 457 

the spirit of Christ prevails, it goes out in compassion to the 
wretched, forgiveness to the injurious, kindness to all. 

It is a happy grace. It constitutes the bliss of heaven ; 
and there is no true happiness on earth in which it does not 
mingle. Where it is found in active exercise, whether in 
the mansions of the rich or in the cottages of the poor, there 
is happiness, and there we are sure to find the entire cluster 
of graces enumerated by the apostle. It is a life-giving 
grace. Where it is carefully cherished, the heart cannot 
become cold and dead ; nor can the soul grow old, or joy die 
out. This is true of this principle, whether it springs from 
natural affection, or is the fruit of God's Spirit. It is the 
same power in both cases : the Holy Spirit only lifts it higher, 
and gives it a right direction. Paul complains of the 
heathen, that they are "without natural affection ;" and 
there is not a more melancholy evidence of the debasing 
and brutalizing effect of sin than this, that it crushes out 
this sweetest and most delicate of the attributes of the human 
soul. 

Pride is the great antagonist of love. Where it rules, the 
heart is dead. Love is gentle, and easy to be entreated; 
pride is the very opposite. Pride deifies self; love is meek 
and humble ; and while the one cares only for its own grati- 
fication, the other is intent upon ministering to the happi- 
ness of others. Love is not easily provoked, and thinketh 
no evil; pride is quick to take and resent offense, and ready 
to suspect evil. But worse than all is that vulgar form of 
pride which makes a man ashamed to manifest his natural 
affections, as if it were beneath his dignity. Such people 
imagine that to be cold and austere in their deportment is 
more noble than to be joycus. social and affectionate. When 
the children were brought to Jesus, some of the disciples 
forbade their approach, supposing that their Master's dignity 
would be compromised by such familiar trifling. Now. 

39 



45 8 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

pride was at the bottom of that, however it may have been 
modified and disguised ; and Jesus was very much displeased 
at their conduct. "Suffer the little children to come unto 
me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven," said he, as he stretched forth his arms to invite 
and encourage their approach; and clasping them to his 
bosom with more than a father's love, he poured forth his 
all-prevalent prayer for them. Oh, that was not a cold, 
formal, official benediction, but the warm out-gushing of 
his heart. He who wept at the grave of his friend in Beth- 
any, and embraced these children with more than parental 
fondness, was not ashamed to let his affections flow out. 
Every pulsation of his heart was love, and it fell, gentle and 
sweet, like manna, upon all around him. He pitied and 
relieved the suffering, he pardoned the sinful, he patiently 
instructed the ignorant and the dull, while his affection for 
his true friends "was wonderful, surpassing that of woman" 
— greater than was Jonathan's for David. He, in view of 
all his anguish, with the mighty work of a world's instruc- 
tion and a world's redemption resting upon him, kept his 
heart warm — alive to every appeal of woe, and every impulse 
of comp^cent love; and in this lay his glory and his strength; 
this rendered him mighty to save, and enabled him to 
endure the cross and despise the shame. Is it, thou cold, 
solemn, austere Christian — is it beneath thy dignity to 
copy such an example, and follow such a leader ? 

But there are some who imagine that because they are 
growing old they must restrain the out-flowings of affection, 
in order to maintain the gravity becoming their age. Under 
such an impression, no wonder their hearts soon become 
dead ; and even husband and wife are sometimes seen plod- 
ding along the down-hill of life as patiently, and perhaps as 
peacefully, as a yoke of oxen, and with about the same 
amount of generous and affectionate emotion. What a sad 



MY FIRST COMMUNION, 459 

mistake this is ! The body will grow old and lose the vigor 
and buoyancy of youth ; but the heart ought never to grow 
old. Age can not, need not, chill it. Nevertheless, it will 
inevitably become cold and torpid, if we neglect to keep it 
with all diligence. We must nourish and cherish its beauti- 
ful and delicate plants ; for, like Adam, we are each placed 
in a garden, and the task is laid upon us "to dress it and 
keep it." But alas! to how many such moral gardens 
would the description of the wise man apply: "I went by 
the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void 
of understanding; and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, 
and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall 
thereof was broken down. Then I saw and considered it 
well; I looked upon it and received instruction.' ' 



Pa im\ $0WMtttti<m> 

The 27th of June, 1824, was a day to which I have 
thousands of times looked back with a serious joy, and the 
memory is as a well of water springing up into everlasting 
life; for it is written, "The joy of the Lord is your 
strength." 

I was, I may say, a boy then, having my full share of the 
exuberant vitality and waywardness of boyhood. Many 
times I wandered and did " those things which I ought not 
to have done;" but the Good Shepherd, to whom I had 
given my heart in childhood, never failed to follow me, to 
find me, and give me richer bliss even in the tears of peni- 
tence than I ever found in the ways of folly and of sin. 
With no parent to guide or admonish ; at the time of life 
when temptation had its maximum power, he to whom in all 
the simplicity of childhood I had committed my soul as 



460 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

unto a faithful Creator, did keep me. He restored my 
soul, as David beautifully expresses it, and made me walk 
in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Those 
sweet lines from the old version often welled up spontane- 
ously from my heart in those early days, and sometimes 
found utterance in song in my poor way : 

11 My soul he doth restore again; 
And me to walk doth make 
Within the paths of righteousness, 
Even for his own name's sake." 

At the time now in my mind I was an apprentice to the 
printing business in the then little frontier town of Indiana, 
Pa. Rev. John Reed, a stout, heavy man, with more heart 
and more loving-kindness in that heart than the world gave 
him credit for, was then pastor of the Presbyterian church 
in that town and gave to it half his time. He was a plain, 
blunt man, somewhat humorous in his own peculiar way, 
and a little harsh and rough at times. I was so fortunate as 
to gain his good will to a marked degree, and he gave me 
what nobody else ever had, the free run of his library, and 
it was a pretty good one. I had, moreover, the privilege of 
riding his horse, when I knew that he was not going to ride, 
on condition that I did not ask his permission. 

Things were going on in this way when my u boss" and 
I made an arrangement with Mr. Reed to give me a course 
of lessons in English grammar. He was a good teacher, 
and as I was then his only pupil, we had a great time. We 
took a very irregular but effective course of only five 
weeks.. The brief recitation being over, we would go into 
a free and easy conversation, generally about language and 
grammar, but sometimes on other subjects, with all manner 
of illustrations, some of which were exceedingly funny. 
His illustration of an anti-climax I shall never forget. 
After a few moments of silence, he abruptly broke out in 



MY FIRST COMMUNION. 4-6 1 

his rapid and perfectly grave utterance: "I heard of a 
great fellow once — he was a terrible fellow — he overturned 
a mountain, killed a nigger, burnt a house, and ate a 
worm!" I was both amused and surprised; but he made 
no explanation. At length I perceived that the ridiculous 
story was a grotesque example of an anti-climax. At other 
times the conversation would turn upon the graver subjects 
of religion, morals, science, or history. But it was always 
instructive, and never would he allow an ungrammatical 
sentence to escape my lips without correcting me. 

While thus engaged, the day for the administration of 
the Lord's supper was approaching. I had long felt that it 
was my duty to obey the dying injunction of my Lord to 
confess him before men, by commemorating his dying love. 
But it was then and there a thing almost without precedent 
for one so young to do such a thing. Without consulting 
with any one I made up my mind to do it; and one day, at 
the close of our talk over the grammar lesson, I told Mr. 
Reed what I thought of doing. He was evidently surprised, 
and so affected that it was some time before he spoke. 
Our conversation was then very pleasant and mutually sat- 
isfactory. There was no difficulty whatever in the way. 

Our usual place of worship was the court house; but with 
its jury-boxes and other fixtures, it was a very unsuitable 
place for the spreading of sacramental tables. A short 
distance below the town, however, there was a pretty grove 
of fine oak trees, with clear and smooth ground. There 
the congregation put up a little preaching stand with a roof, 
and fixed a long trunk of a tree, hewed flat and smooth, 
for a table, and two others, raised to the proper height, for 
seats. Nothing could be more primitive and rustic. Yet 
it was pretty ; and in the deep shadows of lofty and wide- 
spreading branches it was solemn and impressive. Three 
ministers occupied the preaching booth— one of whom was 



4^2 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

the excellent Thomas Davis — while the people sat in front, 
some on rough benches, some on chairs, and some on the 
ground. Mr. Wirt, in his beautiful sketch of the "Blind 
Preacher/ \ describes a similar scene. Eternity I trust will 
neither efface nor weaken the sweet memory of that day. 

But of the company who sat at the Lord's table under 
those umbrageous boughs, I believe 1 am the sole survivor. 

The venerable David Blair, then of the Associate, now 
of the United Presbyterian Church, was at that time 
preaching in Indiana ; he and Mr. Reed alternating in the 
court house. From those days to the present time, now 
stretching over a period of sixty years, he has occupied as 
warm a place in my affections as any man I ever knew. I 
was one of his regular hearers, and before I left the place 
we had become warm friends. He is a large-hearted, gen- 
erous, noble Christian — one who has fought the good fight 
and kept the faith, and in the course of nature must be 
near his crown. He is now over ninety. 



Daniel, in his interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar's dream 
of a great image, said: "Then was the iron, the clay, the 
brass, the silver and the gold, broken to pieces together, 
and became like the chaff of the summer threshing-floors, 
and the wind carried them away, that no place was found 
for them." — Daniel ii. 35. 

That dream of the image seems to be a peculiar and 
important political prophecy. I think it has reference solely 
to governments and forms of government, as they succes- 
sively arose amongst men, and to nothing else. 

The first and simplest of all governments was the patri- 



BREAKING TO PIECES. 4^3 

archal. This form we trace in the history of our race, as 
found in the Bible, from Adam to Jacob and Job. In the 
history of Abraham we have its fullest and clearest delinea- 
tion. In the notice given of the "violence" which pre- 
vailed before the flood, we have a hint of a departure from 
the simple and benign system of which we are speaking, and 
of the introduction of the despotic form, which, indeed, is 
the next natural step in this department of human progress 
— a downward step, it is true, but still a step in the direction 
of an advance, at least in numbers and power. Nimrod, 
the founder of the Assyrian empire, was a despot ; and the 
kings of Egypt were of the same class, as we learn from the 
summary manner in which Pharaoh disposed of his butler 
and baker in the days of Joseph. 

Thus we see, at that early day, the patriarchal system 
changing, by a process perfectly in keeping with the proud 
and ambitious heart of man, into the despotic. The little 
family became merged and lost in the huge empire; and 
fear and fawning supplanted love and veneration in the 
hearts of the governed. So things moved on for generation 
after generation. The patriarchal system of government 
had long ceased to exist as an independent institution; but 
men had not yet advanced to the era of constitutional limi- 
tations and of written laws. Things were in this posture 
when a strange and terrible vision presented itself to the 
sleeping imagination of the greatest monarch of the earliest 
empire, a full and most graphic account of which is given 
in the chapter from which we have quoted. 

At that day but one form of government existed. From 
the king of Babylon, who held other kings as vassals and 
tributaries, down to the petty head of the most petty tribe, 
all were alike despotic. 

In the strangely diverse image which Nebuchadnezzar saw 
in his dream, the head of which " was of fine gold, his breast 



464 GATHERINGS IN EEULAH. 

and his arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, his 
legs of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay,' ' he him- 
self occupied the highest place, whether regarded in the 
order of time or of purity — that is, of unmixed, unshared, 
autocratic power. Hence, says Daniel in his^interpretation, 
"Thou art this head of gold." 

But in the powerful and haughty prince of whom we are 
speaking that form of government culminated, and thence- 
forward other elements, limiting and curtailing the power of 
the monarch, and in the same degree giving liberty and 
security to the subject, began slowly to creep in. Read the . 
narrative of the casting of Daniel into the den of lions, and 
you will see a strange commingling of arbitrary, cruel, 
heaven-daring tyranny with established law. Darius was 
unable to reverse his own impious decree. We have now 
got down to the silver portion of the image. The despotism 
is not quite so pure and simple. 

We shall not trace the analogies of this expressive vision 
down from the Babylonian head, and the Medo-Persian 
breast, to the brass of the Grecian and the iron of the Roman 
empires; nor still farther, to the ill-cemented elements of 
the governments of later periods, and of the present day; 
but simply point to the significant fact that, although Baby- 
lon has long been blotted out as a power on earth, although 
Greece as an empire belongs to a far-gone antiquity, and 
the empire of the Caesars is broken into fragments, yet the 
image, as presented to the imagination of that heathen mon- 
arch, was, and is yet, entire. Its head of gold and its feet 
of mingled iron and clay are now co-existing facts. The 
mighty structure yet stands as it stood in vision, in all its 
strange and terrible proportions, and in its regularly de- 
scending scale of constituent parts, complete and entire. 

This being admitted, how are we to understand it? 

Daniel said to Nebuchadnezzar, "Thou art this head of 



BREAKING TO PIECES. 4 6 S 

gold;" but when we consider the wide and far-reaching sig- 
nificance of the vision, we cannot but see and feel that it is 
impossible to restrict these words to one short-lived mortal, 
who passed away, together with his son and successor, and 
whose dynasty terminated, all in the lifetime of Daniel. But 
let us view him as the head and representative of a class of 
rulers, and the solution becomes easy. He was the most 
prominent and perfect type of a class that had existed from 
before the days of Abraham, and which has never ceased to 
exist to this day. The head of gold still bears sway over, 
perhaps, one-half of the human race. 

And the same is true of the several gradations of constitu- 
ent elements — the oligarchical, the military, the regal and 
the popular — down to the miry clay — those incongruous, 
unmanageable elements which creep into the structure of 
some of the freest and strongest of social compacts. The 
image is, therefore, on this hypothesis, standing at this hour 
in ail its completeness. 

We come now to the destruction— strange, sudden, simul- 
taneous, tremendous and total. A little stone, cut out of 
the mountains without hands, smote the image — not upon 
his head, nor breast, nor legs, but upon his feet, where clay 
and iron, weakness and strength, were commingled but not 
combined, as indeed they could not be. The blow falls 
upon the weakest part; but so resistless is the force, and so 
mighty the vibration, that the entire structure, composed of 
the* strongest and most tenacious of earthly materials, is 
crumbled to powder and blown away like chaff. It does not 
fall prostrate merely, like Dagon before the ark, but is utterly 
broken, pulverized, annihilated. It falls — not the head in 
one age, the arms and the breast in another, as the vision 
has been generally interpreted, but together — "broken to 
pieces together" — simultaneously, at once; the blow upon 
the feet being the primary and sole cause of the destruction 
of the head and every other part. 



4^6 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

The destruction of the image seems to be one event, not 
a long succession of events — one in cause, one in time. 
This being admitted, it has not yet taken place. But when 
we consider this most interesting prophecy in the light of 
events now transpiring in the world, it is enough to make 
the thoughtful Christian climb higher into the citadel of his 
strength and into his watch-tower, that he may observe and 
mark with reverent attention what God is doing. The signs 
indicate that we have arrived at a momentous prophetic era, 
and that Christ is about to take to himself his great power 
and reign. 

That the gospel will ultimately triumph over every system 
of error and delusion; that the power and grace of Christ 
will overcome every adversary, and bring all nations into 
willing subjection to his peaceful and gentle reign; and that 
the Sun of Righteousness will shed his healing beams over 
all nations, are truths so clearly revealed, and so variously 
set forth in the Holy Scriptures, that the hopes of almost all 
Christians take hold of them more or less strongly. 



iflfm mmxi pro. 

WHAT HE SAYS OF CHRIST. 

The recent publication of the autobiography of this intel- 
lectual giant and bold and daring skeptic made a strong im- 
pression upon the reading world. In that and in his philo- 
sophical works, he utterly rejects a divine revelation and all 
belief in the supernatural, even to the existence of a per- 
sonal God. All his knowledge and all his theories are 
based upon Nature as interpreted by scientific research. 
He never renounced his Christian belief, for he never had 



JOHN STUART MILL. 4^7 

any to renounce, but grew up a cold skeptic from his 
infancy. Such is his own testimony. It is not necessary 
to speak here of his marvelous precocity — how he read the 
Greek classics, and in some measure understood them, at 
four, and at fourteen had reached the status of a mature 
scholar, and was able to deal with the most recondite ques- 
tions. From infancy he was led into and strongly entrenched 
in infidelity by his father, who from the first wa.s his teacher 
and constant companion. The father had been educated 
for a clergyman of the Church of England; but soon 
swerved from and renounced his faith in the doctrines of 
Christianity, and became a cold and bitter infidel. Father 
and son together occupied the "seat of the scornful' ' 
through life. 

The London Spectator publishes in a review some extracts 
from a work by John Stuart Mill entitled "Essays on 
Nature, the Utility of Religion, and Theism," which is not 
yet out of the hands of the publishers. In those essays 
vain, flippant and superficial skeptics— and the world is full 
of such — will be staggered to find one of their greatest 
leaders confessing at once the possibility of the Gospel 
story being true, and bearing his testimony to the incom- 
parable wisdom, purity and excellence of the character of 
Jesus of Nazareth, and declaring that "it is of no use to 
say that Christ, as exhibited in the Gospels, is not his- 
torical.' ' But that he may speak for himself I copy a 
passage! It is close and vigorous, and must be carefully 
read: 

"Whatever else may be taken away from us by rational 
criticism, Christ is still left, — a unique figure, not more 
unlike all his predecessors than all his followers, even 
those who had the direct benefit of his personal teaching. 
It is of no use to say that Christ, as exhibited in the Gos- 
pels, is not historical, and that we know not how much of 



468 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

what is admirable has been superadded by the tradition of 
his followers. The tradition of followers suffices to insert 
any number of marvels, and may have inserted all the 
miracles which he is reputed to have wrought. But who 
among his disciples or among their proselytes was capable 
of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining 
the life and character revealed in the Gospels? Certainly 
not the fishermen of Galilee ; as certainly not St. Paul, 
whose character and idiosyncrasies were of a totally differ- 
ent sort ; still less the early Christian writers, in whom 
nothing is more evident than that the good which was in 
them was all derived, as they always professed it was 

derived, from the higher source But about the 

life and sayings of Jesus there is a stamp of personal origi- 
nality, combined with profundity of insight, which if we 
abandon the idle expectation of finding scientific precision 
where something very different was aimed at, must place 
the Prophet of Nazareth, even in the estimation of those 
who have no belief in his inspiration, in the very first rank 
of the men of sublime genius of whom our species can 
boast. When this pre-eminent genius is combined with the 
qualities of probably the greatest moral reformer and mar- 
tyr to that mission who ever existed upon earth, religion 
cannot be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on 
this man as the ideal representative and guide of humanity; 
nor even now would it be easy, even for an unbeliever, 
to find a better translation of the rule of virtue from the 
abstract into the concrete than to endeavor so to live that 
Christ would approve our life. When to this we add that, 
to the conception of the rational skeptic, it remains a pos- 
sibility that Christ actually was what he supposed himself to 
be, —not God, for he never made the smallest pretensions 
to that character, and would probably have thought such a 
pretension as blasphemous as it seemed to the men who 



JOHN STUART MILL. 4 6 9 

condemned him, — but a man charged with a special, ex- 
press, and unique commission from God to lead mankind 
to truth and virtue, we may well conclude that the influ- 
ences of religion on the character which will remain after 
rational criticism has done its utmost against the evidences 
of religion are well worth preserving, and that what they 
lack in direct strength, as compared with those of a firmer 
belief, is more than compensated by the greater truth and 
rectitude of the morality they sanction." 

It is very remarkable that the policemen, who on one oc- 
casion were sent to arrest our Lord, and this prince of 
skeptics, a large part of whose life-work was to arrest and 
obstruct the cause of Christ in the world, should bring back 
substantially the same report — " Never man spake like this 
man!" 

That a man like John Stuart Mill should speak in terms 
of unqualified admiration of the Prophet of Nazareth is 
equally remarkable; for never, even apart from moral 
qualities, was there a more marked and striking contrast 
between two characters. Mill, the moment he got beyond 
the narrow range of experimental and demonstrative sci- 
ence, found himself in a labyrinth as dark as it was intricate, 
where all that he could do was to grope his way, with 
nothing surer to guide him than inferences conflicting with 
other inferences, (as in the above extract,) surmises, opin- 
ions, doubts, probabilities and possibilities. Jesus, on the 
other hand, never uttered an opinion or weighed a proba- 
bility. Even belief was below his range; for his knowledge 
was both perfect and boundless ; and what is absolutely 
known cannot be said to be believed. Socrates thought and 
spoke like a philosopher; so did John Stuart Mill, as the 
foregoing passage attests; but Jesus Christ spoke like a God. 
Yet different as Mill was from him whom he admired, 



40 



47° GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

like an honest man, as he doubtless was, he was constrained 
to express that admiration. 

Still he is an unbeliever, and only admits the "possibility 
that Christ actually was what he supposed himself to be." 
Here he betrays the weakness of his position when he couples 
such a life, such wisdom, such unexampled moral teachings 
with a strong probability that he labored under an unpar- 
alleled hallucination in supposing himself to be what he 
was not. I say strong probability, for where there is only 
a bare possibility on the one side, there remains a strong 
probability on the other. Mill was too good a logician to 
entertain for a moment the idea that one whose life and 
teachings were so immaculate could be an impostor or a 
pretender. 

Mill bases all his conceptions of Christ upon the Gospels 
of the three first evangelists. That of John he utterly dis- 
cards. This accounts for his positive assertion in the passage 
quoted that Jesus never claimed to be God. But this is not 
the place to combat this error. It is enough to have such a 
testimony of the glorious character of our Lord from such 
a source; for it may lift the conceptions even of some true 
believers to a higher plane. 



§ mmstim of tfoe §0% 

God has given to man a being wonderfully complex. In 
him the natures of the lower animals are found incorporated 
with those of the highest spiritual intelligences. " A worm! 
a god!" is the exclamation of Dr. Young, while endeavor- 
ing to give utterance to his impressions of the nature of man. 
In him one nature is found blended with another; and the 
careful student of man will not fail to find in the human 



RESURRECTION OF THE BODY. 47 l 

conformation and character types of almost every species of 
the lower animated creation ; and when we contemplate the 
mental and moral varieties found among mankind, we may 
confidently infer that: man, in his spiritual nature, is also 
allied to all the higher orders of spiritual and intelligent 
existence. 

But a greater and more wonderful fact than any of these 
is clearly revealed — even that God himself took upon him 
a mortal body and was "manifest in the flesh." Well might 
the apostle exclaim, "Great is the mystery of godliness !" 
whilst contemplating that glorious Being in whose nature, 
is incorporated all that is in man, all that is in God. This 
union of spirit with flesh and of God with man ennobles 
all, glorifies all, immortalizes all. So related, so allied, so 
blended in being with the immortal spirit and with the 
Father of spirits, the body of the believer in Christ can 
never perish. Christ's body rose and lives, and will live 
forever. When he was on earth, he said, "This is the 
Father's will which hath sent me, that of all which he hath 
given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again 
at the last day." This certainly has reference to the bodies 
of his people; for he says, in another place, "The hour is 
coming in which all that are in the grave shall hear his voice, 
and shall come forth; they that have done good to the 
resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the 
resurrection of damnation." This declaration is so plain 
and emphatic that 1 shall cite no further proofs of the doc- 
trine, although numberless scriptures might be quoted in 
corroboration. 

That the disembodied spirit of man lives and enjoys or 
suffers according as its moral character may be, is a truth 
plainly taught in the Scriptures. Paul speaks of being absent 
from the body, but present with the Lord ; and he says it, not 
as if he were enunciating a new and strange doctrine, but 



472 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

merely alluding to a familiar truth. Jesus said to the peni- 
tent thief on the cross, " To-day shalt thou be with me in 
Paradise ;" but certainly his body was not in Paradise, for 
it only filled a felon's grave. Neither was the body of Jesus 
that day in Paradise. They, therefore, met Paradise as dis- 
embodied spirits. Again : "The rich man died and mas 
buried, and in hell he lifted up his eyes." Let these citations 
suffice to prove that doctrine. 

But redemption is incomplete until the body is delivered 
from the power of death. The disembodied spirit of the be- 
liever doubtless will be happy beyond the power of language 
to set forth. Still that state must necessarily be imperfect ; 
and we cannot believe otherwise than that the soul of the 
just man in heaven looks forward with earnest expectation 
to the day which shall reunite him with that other part of 
his nature which still lies under the curse of a broken law. 

Paul lays great stress upon the doctrine of the resurrec- 
tion of the body. None of the sacred writers so often and 
so pointedly speak of it. Every Christian reader is familiar 
with what he says on the subject, so that I need not quote 
his language, further than may be necessary in the discussion 
of this subject. "It is sown" says he, "a natural body, 
it is raised a spiritual body." What" a spiritual body is, is to 
our present imperfect comprehension a profound mystery ; 
but the apostle throws as much light upon it as it is possible 
to do, when he says that the bodies of believers will be like 
the glorious body of their risen Lord. That body was 
material and substantial; for he said to his alarmed and 
incredulous disciples, on one occasion, when he appeared 
to them after his resurrection, " Handle me and see; for a 
spirit (meaning a pure, simple, disembodied spirit, or an 
apparition) hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have." 
His hands, his feet, his lips and tongue, performed their 
appropriate functions as formerly, and " he did eat before 



RESURRECTION OF THE BODY. 473 

them." All this goes to prove the perfect restoration of the 
body to all its powers of action, and of course of sensation ; 
to its capacity for enjoyment or suffering ; and those powers 
and capacities doubtless greatly enhanced, as well as rendered 
indestructible and exhaustless. 

But the Saviour, on several occasions, appeared in the 
midst of his disciples suddenly, the doors being shut ; and 
several times, in the same inexplicable manner, he vanished 
out of their sight. How a body having flesh and bones 
could thus appear and disappear we cannot understand. I 
am inclined to believe, however, that there was no mira- 
cle wrought on those occasions ; but that these mysterious 
movements were designed to afford us some conception of 
the nature and capabilities of a spiritual body. He had not 
then assumed the overpowering splendor of his heavenly 
glory, such as Saul of Tarsus, on the road to Damascus, 
and John, in the isle of Patmos, saw; but it was the same 
body in which he went to heaven from the Mount of Olives, 
and in which he sat down on the right hand of the Majesty 
on high. 

Now, when the mind seeks to penetrate to the unseen 
realities of the eternal world, and endeavors to solve the 
mysteries of our nature beyond the resurrection, let what 
we know of the risen Saviour be its guide. He walked, he 
ate, he held familiar intercourse with his friends and brethren; 
he brought every bodily sense and function into its usual 
activity; yet he was different from what he was before his 
death. Though clothed in a substantial, material body, he 
acted at times as a free, unclogged spirit. Of his body it 
was emphatically true, " It was sown a natural body, it was 
raised a spiritual body." Truly, this is a great mystery ; 
and it may be that in our present state we are not capable 
of understanding more than it has pleased God to reveal. 
In the person of Jesus, our great Forerunner and Exemplar, 



474 GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

we have an example of the resurrection; and from it we 
may gather more unerring ideas than we possibly could do 
from any abstract revelation. 

In the full blaze of this glorious doctrine, how pleasant 
and refreshing is the thought of death and the grave ! Death 
is seen to be but a temporary sleep ; corruption a refining 
process, a part in that great change which converts mortal 
to immortal, natural to spiritual, weakness to power. 

" Corruption, earth and worms 
Shall but refine the flesh, 
Till my triumphant spirit comes 
To put it on afresh. " 

Guided by the example already cited, we may safely in- 
dulge in hope of that glorious state which awaits the Christian 
beyond the resurrection. Redemption will then be complete. 
The soul, perfectly sanctified, will once more act through the 
medium of bodily faculties and powers. These eyes will see 
the King in his beauty, and these tongues hold converse with 
him, and with all the glorious beings by whom we shall be 
surrounded. These hands will once more be active in de- 
lightful employments ; and 

" These feet with angel wings shall vie, 
And tread the palace of the sky." 

Then we shall be like him who, when he was in our world, 
was like us. We shall see him as he is, — that is, as God 
manifest in the flesh, at once our God and our Brother. All 
that we know in this life of endearing relationships, father, 
brother, husband, friend, are used by the Holy Spirit to give 
us as strong impressions as we are capable of receiving of 
the exceeding nearness and dearness of the relation which 
will eternally subsist between the Redeemer and his ran- 
somed and glorified ones. Then, when every metaphor and 
illustration has been pressed into the seryice to do what 



PROGRESS IN THE LIFE TO COME. 475 

they can to show us the wonderful love of God our Saviour, 
it is added, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
hath entered into the heart of man the things that God has 
prepared for them that love him. ,, 

The habitual thought of death and eternity is very salutary, 
provided our minds are animated and guided by a true and 
living faith, and cheered by a good hope. Faith will enable 
us to get a glimpse of the glory that lies beyond the gloom; 
and when we see that we shall love to gaze at it. But until 
we can regard death and the grave in the light of the resur- 
rection, they will only at times force themselves upon us as 
unwelcome intruders ; and it is a fact that we have the power, 
and are too much inclined to exercise it, of keeping "such 
thoughts out. To do so is bad every way. There is nothing 
so certain as death ; but if we are unwilling to think of it, 
then it is obvious that we cannot be prepared to meet it. The 
true way is to be able so to view it that it shall become the 
most delightful subject upon which we can fix our thoughts. 
This is a state of mind perfectly attainable, and one to which 
thousands have attained. Let the gloom of the Grave be 
dispelled by the glories of Immortality, and the sorrows of 
Death be swallowed up in the joys of Hope. 



gwflttissi to tfte pfe to ®&mt. 

To the contemplative mind there is something deeply in- 
teresting in the growth of a vegetable from the germ to the 
utmost development of which it is capable, whether that 
vegetable be a plant of a single season's continuance, or a 
tree that lives, and thrives, and expands for centuries. Both 
are formed on the same general type. Each possesses that 



47^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAII. 

mysterious principle of life which lays all its surroundings 
under tribute, and compels them to minister t<? its growth. 
Each assimilates to its own peculiar character the diverse 
elements which it draws from the earth, the atmosphere, and 
the light, in obedience to that law givsn by the Creator when 
he said, "Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding 
seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit, after his kind." 

But the herb and the tree are transient, like all things else 
on earth. One generation of animals, and plants and trees, 
succeeds to another at intervals "more or less brief; and 
the most enduring may be classed among things which 
quickly pass away. God has established this as the law of 
all living things on this earth. But there is a world the dis- 
tinguishing characteristic of which is everlasting life. In 
that world there is life without end, growth without ceasing, 
development without the possibility of ever reaching a point 
wherein no more knowledge, or power, or glory, or holiness, 
or beauty, or felicity can be attained. There is but one 
boundary, and that can never be reached. That boundary 
is the infinitude of God. 

Even in this imperfect state, man has many and great 
powers. His capacity of knowing and understanding is 
wonderful. His power over the elements which surround 
him is equally so. And his moral nature, marred, obscured, 
perverted, fettered and cut short as it is by sin, is even here, 
both by nature and by grace, capable of godlike manifesta- 
tions. The devoted husband and wife, the filial child, the 
patriot hero, the far-seeing philosopher, the suffering yet 
rejoicing saint, the Christian martyr, — all attest the power 
and beauty of those God-given capacities with which we are 
favored. These we have seen, and admired. These are 
adapted to the life that now is, to the atmosphere of this 
cold and stormy world, and in some instances their develop- 
ment has been wonderfully great. But we may confidently 



PROGRESS IN THE LIFE TO GOME. 477 

expect that, when the "plants of righteousness " shall be 
transferred from this nursery to the paradise above, other 
faculties, other powers, other beauties, of which we have as 
yet no conception, will be developed from the mysterious 
depths of our natures, — powers and faculties for receiving 
and imparting enjoyment too delicate for the rough atmos- 
phere of earth, too glorious to bloom in this cold, dark 
world, too beautiful for the gaze of wicked men, and too 
rich to be used in the labors of this lower vineyard. It 
were vain, however, to conjecture what those powers and 
capacities are; for it is a law of our being that our ex- 
perience is the limit of our ideas. We cannot go beyond, 
however curiously and ingeniously we may arrange and 
combine our present stock of ideas. 

For what we have just said, however, we have the testi- 
mony of analogy. You plant a seed,; — it may be the seed 
of a good fruit, an apple or a pear. Now, watch the law of 
development. At first, two small leaves appear just above 
the surface of the soil ; but soon you perceive that it is 
advancing. More leaves develop themselves, and a stem. 
Thus it goes on from day to day and from week to week, 
until its further progress is arrested by the* frosts of winter. 
Is this death? Yes. Will it not live again? "If a man 
die, shall he live again?" We all say, yes. Will not the 
infant tree just spoken of live again ? Yes, certainly ; but 
not more certainly than man. Does man live more than 
one season in this world? Does he survive the fall of his 
leaf, and, after the winter of death and the grave, put forth 
afresh? No; but, as the tree often is, he is removed from 
the seed-bed during the period of suspended animation, and 
transferred to another place more suitable for perfect de- 
velopment. Now, watch the tree again. New life, or what 
appears to be such, begins to manifest itself; leaves more 
abundant, more beautiful, put forth. By-and-by, branches 



47^ GATHERINGS IN BEULAH. 

appear ; and presently the form and structure of a perfect 
tree are attained. Thus it goes on, increasing in size and 
vigor, until at length it puts forth flowers and fruit, and its 
majestic and beautiful crown, composed of multitudinous 
branches, is arrayed in glory and beauty. This last crown- 
ing development is, as we all know, the result of an inherent 
power, a power which comes into action at the proper time, 
and not a new power given to it for a special purpose. It 
was in it when the two tiny leaves burst through the crust 
of the earth ; but who, without experience, would or could 
have imagined its existence then ? 

Behold here an image of man, — feeble and imperfect, but 
still an image. Among all God's creatures, in their unimagin- 
able variety, there runs a relationship. Having one common 
Author, they have a family likeness, a common type, more 
or less traceable ; and in one we never fail to find at least 
some analogy of the nature of all the rest. So in the powers 
of the mature tree we see what we have every reason to be- 
lieve are bound up in our natures, — latent as yet, unknown, 
unimagined, but which will come forth in due time, under 
the light of God's countenance, and nouribhed by the vital 
energy of the True Vine. 



THE END. 



THE AUTHOR'S CARD. 



The author of this volume is under lasting obliga- 
tions to an excellent corps of canvassers in this city 
and some of the neighboring counties for their labors 
in gathering a large number of subscribers in advance 
of its publication. It was a work of faith on their 
part, as well as on the part of those who were kind 
enough to put their names to the subscription lists. 
In order to give to these canvassers, or agents, the 
opportunity to continue the work, now that the book 
is out, the author will retain the sole control of its 
publication. 

Booksellers, merchants and agents will be dealt with 
on equal terms, and at the usual trade rates — one- 
third off the retail price. 

The book will be promptly forwarded by mail, post- 
age paid, to any who may see proper to purchase in 
that way, upon the receipt of the retail price — $1.50. 
As the work has been put in stereotype, the supply 
cannot be exhausted. In districts where the book can 
neither be had from bookstores nor agents, the mail 
affords a convenient way of getting it. 

Address, 

JOSIAH COPLEY, 

Pittsburgh, Pa. 



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